She lifts the image lightly from Barbara's thoughts, and offers it back filtered through her own - that the thought of wearing it to propitiate an old vampire's antiquated sensibilities is galling, but on the other hand, she has the perfect heavy silk dress and hat and it's ravishing with fishnet stockings and Louboutins.

The dress wins, and Iris closes her eyes and opens them again, like a satisfied cat.

"All right. It's patterned with pineapples. I'll try and mind me manners."