Evey always thought that V's wig felt wonderful.
She loved excuses to touch it on 'accident', to brush her fingertips against the soft hair, and once, she even twined her fingers in it. But only briefly.
She thought, perhaps, that it was real. It wouldn't surprise her. Perhaps it was Valeries'; Evey wasn't going to ask him.
And he knew that.
Because V knew everything.