"I want a gown," said the old gentleman fiercely to the first lady who wriggled up to him and asked what he required.
They were accommodated with chairs in the showroom, and presently a young woman emerged from a glass grated door and walked past them in an Anglo-Saxon attitude.
"You needn't be shy of me," said Uncle Matthew. "I'm old enough to be your grandfather." The show-woman tittered politely at what she supposed was Uncle Matthew's joke.
"Do you like that model?" she said.
"Model?" echoed the old gentleman.
"That gown?" the show-woman enquired.
"Gown?" echoed Uncle Matthew. "What gown?"
"Miss Abels," the show-woman called, "would you mind walking past once more?"
"You don't mean to tell me that what she's wearing is an evening gown you propose to sell me?" asked Uncle Matthew, on whom an explanation of the young woman's behaviour was beginning to dawn. "Why, I never thought she was dressed at all."
The show-woman again tittered politely.