Susie takes Fatima's place

"Quick," said Susie, urgently. "You have to get out, before all the boys come back."

Fatima rolled her eyes. "I still don't have any clothes on," she said, annoyed. "What do you want me to do? Run out into the carnival in the costume of Eve, and make a spectacle of myself, like your foolish... what did you say? Mayor?" Her mellifluous foreign accent, impossible to place, rolled through the tent, smooth as honey, with a bitter sharp-edged tinge to it, like the crunch of a coffee bean. "If you want to help, find me something to wear."

"But we don't have anything to wear."

"Of course you do, silly girl. You are wearing it."

"That's just... silly. I'm not giving you my clothes."

"Do you think it is fair, then, that you have clothes and I have none? Is it not merely a whim of fate that places me here and you there? Is justice not equally satisfied by an exchange?"

"I suppose," Susie admitted, recognising that the logic of Fatima's argument was impeccable, "but..."

"What?"

"What if the boys come back?"

"I will only be gone a moment. I will find Mr. Trapp, the proprietor of this malevolent festival of sin, and give him a piece of my mind. He shall be so bamboozled by my excellent logic that he shall agree to release me from my contract, and restore my finery to me. Then, I shall return with your garments, and we shall flee this place in triumph."

"I think you've got time," said Bonnie, absent-mindedly, peeking out the tent flap. "The boys have all gone off after Peggy."

"But..." Susie hesitated. It was a ridiculous suggestion, but she had promised, and something about Fatima's piercing, hawklike stare penetrated into the very depths of her soul, making it almost impossible to say no. "I suppose if it's only for a moment. And as long as I'm doing the right thing, by putting an end to this horrible little sideshow, and getting one over on the boys."

"So you are."

"Bonnie, keep an eye out in case Ben and the rest of the gang comes back. Fatima, just... close your eyes."

"No."