"Then let's clear out," cried he. "I'm bored to death. But
I didn't like to say anything, you seemed so busy."
"I am busy. And—can you stand it three days more?"
"But you'll only have to throw away the stuff you buy here.
Why buy so much?"
"I'm not buying much. Two ready-to-wear Paris dresses—models they call them—and two hats."
Palmer looked alarmed. "Why, at that rate," protested he, "it'll take you all winter to get together your winter clothes, and no time left to wear 'em."
"You don't understand," said she. "If you want to be treated right in a shop—be shown the best things—have your orders attended to, you've got to come looking as if you knew what the best is. I'm getting ready to make a good first impression on the dressmakers and milliners in Paris."
"Oh, you'll have the money, and that'll make 'em step round."
"Don't you believe it," replied she. "All the money in the world won't get you fashionable clothes at the most fashionable place. It'll only get you costly clothes."
"Maybe that's so for women's things. It isn't for men's."
"I'm not sure of that. When we get to Paris, we'll see. But certainly it's true for women. If I went to the places in the rue de la Paix dressed as I am now, it'd take several years to convince them that I knew what I wanted and wouldn't be satisfied with anything but the latest and best. So I'm having these miserable dressmakers fit those dresses on me until they're absolutely perfect. It's wearing me out, but I'll be glad I did it."