I made no answer. I continued as though I had not heard her: “And I have the money—two banknotes—in my pocket; and I am going to choose some dresses now, and I thought perhaps you two girls would like to come with me.”
“How splendid! Where shall we go?”
“Not to Wallis’s,” I said firmly.
“Why not to Wallis’s? What special hatred have you for that shop?”
“I do not wish to go there,” I answered. “I want to dress myself in West End style.”
“Then,” said Agnes, “nothing can be easier. We’ll wait just here and take the first ’bus to Oxford Street. We’ll get down there and press our noses against the shop windows. It’s Christmas-time, and things are so bright. But if you want dresses now you’ll have to get them ready-made, for no shop will make your dresses in time for Christmas.”
“I don’t really know that I want much dress,” I said. “I have got the money to do what I like with.”
“Of course you have.” Rita looked at me anxiously.
“I must spend some of it on dress, of course, but I’ve got ten pounds. It seems almost as though it could never be spent. Oh, here’s a ’bus! Shall we go on the top?”
Rita waved her umbrella wildly. The driver of the omnibus stopped. We mounted on to the roof, and sat huddled close together discussing my brilliant prospects.