Rosie shrugs off the demurral, mollified even as she's still convinced it's not quite true. She gives him a little more space as he changes, picking out her own clothes for the day, but she has to laugh when he asks about the pockets.

"Why do you think girls are always carrying around one kind of handbag or another?" she says, turning to look at him as he runs his hands along his waist. The confusion on his face shouldn't be so satisfying. "No one makes anything with pockets big enough. Or, hardly anyone, and when you find something with good pockets, you hope it lasts forever."