He sat in the tub as the water flowed, mulling it over. On the one hand, since they don’t appear to wear clothes, it makes sense that they wouldn’t be overly concerned with privacy—to them, the only difference between someone in a bath and someone on the street is that the bather’s wet. But there wouldn’t be anything you wouldn’t see on the street that you would in a bath. At least, I don’t think there is. Still, they figured out pretty quickly that I would want clothes, and the fact that they fixed the ones I had tells me that they didn’t have any appropriate ones handy. Not surprising. If the situations were reversed, I’d be hard pressed to find a set of clothes that would fit Lyra. I wouldn’t know where to begin—there wouldn’t be anything on the rack at Meijer that would fit.