Afterwards, I was fine really. Or almost. Of course I had to get rid of the clothes, and I was sick on my way home, but I was fine. It was actually a valuable lesson, since it was when I realised that people look but don't see. They look at my hair, my clothes, and just see what they want to see. That day, what was scariest was that I thought Daddy would immediately notice, and so would Mother; they would read it on my face, smell it on me. But of course they didn't. Well, except that after a while Mother left, even if it really wasn't because of that. Anyway, they didn't see it, because people just don't. Even Lord Price didn't see the mistake he was making giving me the fake Giorgione: he must've thought I wouldn't notice. But I did.
I still see what people don't—sometimes I don't care, especially when not only they don't see the truth, they actually dream up what's not there. I never lied to James, not on the important things. Mostly, I play along—they want the show, I give them the show. As long as that's all they want.