[ Sims still looks like a lost little lamb. It's almost funny how many times he's run into this exact situation here, people finding it difficult to dress themselves for one reason or another, though he can at least admit that these are not the circumstances underneath which people enjoy shopping. ]

Yes, [ Kim says, sounding more patient than he feels. ] I am. But first -- Madam? A moment, if you will?

[ He calls the worker back to them. ] Could you please show my colleague to the washroom? He ought to wash his hands before touching any of your wares. And Archivist Sims, [ he says, voice crisp enough for it to sound like a question that must be answered: ] What's your favourite colour?

[ Enough indecision. Sims had been hovering around the plainest clothes he could see (or not see) anyway. Whatever Sims' answer, by the time he returns from washing up, Kim will already have three changes of clothing hung over his arm - all fairly unnoteworthy, the sort of thing that wouldn't catch anyone's attention, in varying shades of whatever colour Sims had pointed out. ]