Madam No, that's a sailor's knot. There is a great difference.
Mrs. De S. (vaguely). I don't see it.
Madam (patiently). You see the loop in this bends down and in this, it bends–goes up. Every difference in the world, my dear Mrs. De Smythe.
Mrs. De S. (meekly, but convinced). Wouldn't it do? All bunched up?
Madam But it is not to be bunched up!
Mrs. De S. (with a profound sigh). What can we do? And I threatened with an attack!
Madam I don't know! (rises, sits down, then groans). I am at my wit's end. Let me think.
Mrs. De S. (with an inspiration). Take the lace off!
Madam (crushingly). My dear Mrs. De Smythe, the gown is modelled for lace.
Mrs. De S. (helplessly). Oh!