Then Mr. Withersq bought black coats both day and night with plad trouwsers for day and smooth black ones for nite and a sport suit with whiskers on it that smelt, with top hats fawn and black and a night hat that popped up and down with a snap.
Selia then got
- Velvet hats
- [59] ]Lace hats
- Silk hats with stremers
- Lether hats
- Straw hats some with flowrs and fethers
- Bed hats of frills and bows
and all of these had its own privet box to be in and a lid that fitted it. While as to the robes that her loving Harold streud on her no tongue could tell for there was a high stepped lady all to themselves that taurght them what to by and for when which is the worst to know and the things piled up like greased litning till all the persons in the shop left their jobs and all the people too and the boys that wizz the lifts up and down too and all followed and stared to see so rich a man prepar his fate. He topped it all by ordering gloves by boxfuls, a fan as curly as a ostrich and under attire by wisper for his sweet, which she went into a littel privet part to chose herself.
And they went out of that shop most [60] ]exceeding grand dressed all in new things scruffing their shoes on the floor to take the shiny off, carrying parcels all eyes glaring upon them and left boxes and boxes full to come on by Carter Pattisen.
“Taxi, sir?” asked the sarjent-looking man at the door bowing more low than at first.
“Yes” gruntled Mr. Withersq as the strings of his parcels cut his fingers a bit and he was sore tired.
A taxi swam up to the edge of the path and the man opened the door of it and Selia nipped in and sank down in its interiaw.
“Where to?” said the driver, which made Mr. Withersq think twice before he spoke that time.
Seeing his destress the sarjent-looking man wispered in his ear as a sugestion: “why not the Grand Palace my good sir, it is very sentral.”