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“What if we don’t test it? What if I conveniently stay dead for a while? Until after the show. Maybe once people see the paintings, what they’ll care about is the work and not the ‘romantic tragedy.’ And then I can return from the dead. I was recuperating in the country, I had no knowledge of what was going on in Paris…I might just as well have discovered the mistake after the show as now.”
    â€œBut you didn’t give me a chance to finish. Falconier can’t show the paintings.”
    â€œWhat do you mean he can’t show them? You said you gave them to him.”
    â€œThe police now say he can’t show them. You didn’t leave a will, so no one can say for sure who owns them. Until it’s settled in court, Falconier can’t open the show. He’s going out of his mind.”
    Mason took a minute to consider this. Then a mischievous smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth. “What if I had a sister? As my only living relative, she’d inherit the paintings. What if you suddenly received a letter from this sister, who you didn’t know I had, saying she’d read about poor Mason’s demise in the Boston papers and was about to embark for France to settle her affairs? What if you cabled her aboard her ship telling her about the show and she cabled back her permission to go ahead with it?”
    â€œBut you don’t have a sister.”
    â€œI do now.”
    All at once Lisette saw the beauty of it and met her smile. “Wouldn’t that be a terrible thing for us to do?”
    â€œTerrible.”
    â€œWe’ve got to do it, yes?”
    â€œI don’t think there’s any power on earth that can stop us now, do you?”
    Lisette clapped her hands. “This is going to be such fun!”
    Early the next morning, Lisette went to Falconier and told him the story they’d concocted. Overjoyed, the gallery owner rescued the pile of invitations that hadn’t yet been tossed into the fire and whipped his staff into a frenzy of preparations. “We open in two days,” he proclaimed.
    â€œYou should have seen him,” Lisette told Mason later in her frilly bedroom overrun with stuffed toys and live dogs. “He was so delighted that he insisted on putting the sister up in his suite at the Jockey Club on the Rue Scribe. That’s one of the best addresses in town, you know. And because he was so desperate to show the paintings, I told him he had to cover the sister’s expenses while she’s here. Look at this! A letter of credit! All the money we need to dress you right. I already spoke to Madame Tensale, who will bring a selection of clothes this afternoon.”
    â€œThat’s perfect!” Mason cried excitedly. “We’ll give the sister an entire wardrobe, the kind of things I never wore. Create a whole new image for her.”
    â€œSilks and feathers and all sorts of pretty things,” Lisette agreed, “instead of those plain clothes you wear. We’ll pretend we’re playing dress-up.”
    That settled, they pondered how best to proceed with the transformation.
    â€œI can cut bangs,” Mason suggested, peering at herself in the vanity mirror. “That’s a start, but it won’t be enough. We could dye my hair. How do we do that?”
    Lisette gave her a defensive pout. “Me? How would I know? My hair is completely natural.” Mason answered her with a mock frown, which brought on a fit of laughter from Lisette. “ Ça va ,” she conceded. “I know a place where we can get some chemicals. We will dye your hair dark, no? Like a gypsy.”
    â€œThat’s a start.” Mason searched Lisette’s vanity for a small pair of scissors. With them, she cut the eyelashes on one eye to half their length.
    Lisette screeched. “Your lovely lashes! You’ve killed them!”
    â€œThey’ll grow back,” Mason assured her,