Evelyn needed to learn the town first. She left the boarding house at dawn and walked the main street slowly. Her boots scraped against dirt and wooden planks. She counted three saloons, two general stores, and one church. The miners' faces were hard and sun-beaten, but some nodded as she passed. She studied which shops the respectable women entered. She watched who greeted whom. By noon, she knew where the foreman took his lunch and which bench the mine owner's secretary sat on. This was her foundation—knowing Gritstown's rhythm before she tried to join it. The next afternoon, she heard music drift from a building near the church. Piano notes tumbled through an open window. Evelyn followed the sound and found a woman teaching two young girls at an old player piano. The instrument's woodwork curved and twisted with detail, its finish dark with age. She waited until the lesson ended, then approached. The teacher looked her over once and named her price. Evelyn counted coins into the woman's palm. If she wanted a respectable man, she needed respectable manners. The piano teacher would show her how to sit properly, how to pour tea, how to speak softly. These were tools, same as knowing the town. Saturday's dance would come soon enough, and she would be ready.