She found the other girls on the point of departure. But Olga offered to wait for her.
"No, you run along," Rose said. "I've some errands and I don't feel like seeing a movie to-night, anyway."
Olga looked a little odd about it, but hurried along after the others.
A saleswoman—the same one the manager assigned to Rose under the misconception which that smart French ulster of hers had created when she came into the store—now came around behind the screen to gather up the frocks the girls had shed.
"Will you please bring me," said Rose, "that Poiret model you showed me before the others came in? I'll try it on."
The saleswoman's manner was different now and she grumbled something about its being closing time.
"Then, if you'll bring it at once ..." said Rose. And the saleswoman went on the errand.
Five minutes later, Galbraith from staring gloomily at the mournful heap of trouble Mrs. Goldsmith had left on his hands, looked up to confront a vision that made him gasp.
