Greta called, exchanging amused glances with his sister while they waited for him to emerge from the dressing room. “I feel ridiculous,” Mason complained. Greta sighed. “You’re being ridiculous.” “Stop acting like a child, big brother. What you feel is irrelevant in this case.” She winked at Greta. “These tights aren’t rational,” he declared. “I could easily wear real, modern pants and the children wouldn’t notice the difference.” “Man up and wear the costume as it’s meant to be,” Sophie demanded. “Or else I’ll make you read to the entire Wanderheim brood by yourself.” “You’re kidding, right? You said there are five of them!” “Do I sound like I’m kidding?” The trio was in a powder room near the executive offices of the hotel. Mason kicked the dressing room door open, scowling.
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