She’s taking too long. Strip her to her underwear.

A few moments of silence follow as Evellyn agonizes over a decision, and after a few seconds you decide to make it for her.

You rush in like a whirlwind, relieving her of her coat, her armor and most of her clothes, and neatly bundle them up on the table, leaving her standing exposed in her lacey underwear and stockings. A familiar but eternally pleasing sight, one about to be improved upon by Evellyn’s flush of resentful embarrassment once time starts up again.