“Certainly.”
As the girl left the room Regina turned to Madame Florence. “You have a quaint custom here of using the Christian name,” she said.
“We wish to be impersonal,” said Madame Florence. “Our establishment is called The Dressing-Room, that is sufficient for our purpose, and as we must have some distinguishing mark, my partner and I are Madame Florence and Madame Cynthia, and our helpers are Miss Margaret, Miss Bertha and Miss Violet. It gives us a personality here which has nothing to do with our private personality. We find that it works excellently well.” She broke off as Miss Margaret came back into the room carrying a large box. Regina chose a set of combs and Madame Florence adjusted them in her hair, taking away the cheaper ones with which she had first dressed it.
“Now,” she said, “you may find your toque a little difficult—well, I should like to see your toque on.”
The effect was terrible, for Regina’s toques were never things of beauty, and this one was less beautiful than most of her headgear.
“It is impossible!”
“Well, it is rather impossible. Forgive me for saying so, but how could you buy such a thing?”
“Madame Florence,” said Regina, “you are a lady.”
“I hope so; I have always believed myself to be such.”