"Perfect." When the drink is given, she takes it and moves to perch on the couch. It's comfy, she immediately decides, and she likes it.

Settling down, she watches Lydia go through her clothes. She tosses her hair back, laughing as Lydia holds up a rather gaudy gold sequined top. "They're older," is her excuse, "haven't been going out much lately. I hope you've got something better, now that I'm looking. But there are a few decent things in there."

She really doesn't want to explain what exactly her clothes are from. That isn't part of her life right now, and her new friends don't need to know she was one upon a time a prostitute. Caroline knew, all her friends from before her pardon.