"Yes. This is my blue serge. The brown cloth did not survive the soaking it received in salt water. After a few days it simply crumbled. The others are muslin or cotton, and have been—er—adapted."
"There is plenty of men's clothing," he began.
"Unfortunately there isn't another island," she said, severely.
"No. I meant that it might be possible to—er—contrive some sort of rig that will serve all purposes."
"But all my thread is gone. I have barely a needleful left."
"In that case we must fall back on our supply of hemp."
"I suppose that might be made to serve," she said. "You are never at a loss for an expedient."
"It will be a poor one, I fear. But you can make up for it by buying some nice gowns at Doucet's or Worth's."
She laughed delightedly. "Perhaps in his joy at my reappearance my dear old dad may let me run riot in Paris on our way home. But that will not last. We are fairly well off, but I cannot afford ten thousand a year for dress alone."
"If any woman can afford such a sum for the purpose, you are at least her equal."