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Molly snapped. “You know Blake decided, and new is what the old clients like, for the novelty.”
    Nix shut up, effectively refuted. Molly’s friendship was already paying off.
    That day she accommodated three lords, then got to eat with several other girls, and sleep. Molly helped her throughout, introducing her, defending her, showing her around. It would have been far less comfortable without the friendly girl. It wasn’t much of a life, but it would do until something better offered.
    Word did spread. “We have three waiting in line for you,” the madam informed her in the morning. “Don’t hurry; I will space them. I suspect you will not be with us long.”
    Kerena knew that it was her youth and dawning beauty that constituted her appeal. But she intended to augment it with personality, and begin her search for news of travelers. She talked with her clients between bouts of sex, and they responded, flattered by her interest. She handled eight clients that day.
    Muted jealousy of her early success showed in the other girls, but Molly fended them off. “They hate anyone new and young,” she confided. “Because you make them look old and the men notice.”
    Obviously Molly knew exactly how it was, being the youngest and prettiest of the other girls. “But aren’t you jealous?” Kerena asked.
    “No. I decided not to let them do to you what they did to me.”
    Kerena resolved then to see that Molly never regretted befriending her.
    The third day there were so many clients the madam had to turn some away if they couldn’t be diverted to other girls. Kerena’s share of the money was posted as an account from which she could draw when she chose. She could spend it on her day off. One of the benefits of a high class house was that it did not need to cheat its girls.
    Jolie was halfway bemused. When Kerena had sex, so did she, for she had the girl’s awareness. This life really was as new to her as to the girl. But not actually a bad life, all things considered.
    Kerena went out shopping with Molly when they had time, and the girl was as adept at showing her around the town as around the brothel. They had a fine time.
    The procession of men was in one sense numbing, as there were too many to remember as individuals, even if they had had real names. But Kerena used the experience to practice her wiles. There were differences, and what subtly turned on one man had little effect on another. She made it a point to attune to each as an individual, the brief time she was with him, making each feel special. On occasion she wore a long-hair wig to change her aspect, looking like a different woman. She was mastering the nuances of appeal and seduction. Soon she was getting repeat business, as prior clients asked for her again.
    Sometimes the liaisons verged into something approaching affection. One repeat client was late for their agreed appointment, but she delayed, knowing he would be there. “Thank you,” he said when he hurried in. “I would never want to miss my date with you. This damned incontinence held me up.”
    She hadn’t known of that. She drew on her knowledge of folklore. “It is just a story, a superstation, but some believe there is a cure.”
    “I believe in anything,” he said. “What is it?”
    “Those who suffer from a weak bladder must stand astride at the head of an open grave, after the coffin is lowered but before the dirt is filled in. Then walk backwards to the foot of that grave, bestriding it. But I am not sure of the logic, unless it is that the malady is thus passed along to the dead person, who won’t notice.”
    “I’ll try it,” he said eagerly. “Even if it doesn’t work, I’ll be thinking of you.”
    “Don’t do that,” she cautioned him with mock seriousness. “You’ll get stiff and annoy the corpse.”
    He laughed heartily. “How true!” Then he completed the act, in a good mood.
    Thereafter she developed a reputation for clever advice and humor, and was more in