Pins still sprouted from between her lips and she gathered up the scissors with a tragic gesture. Slowly she unpicked the two side seams.
"That's better!" Miss Uniacke gave an unexpected movement, followed by an ominous rending sound.
"Ha!" she cried triumphantly. "You see for yourself!—I can't walk a step. It's ridiculous!"
Mrs. Crouch sighed.
"We might..." she suggested, "leave one side open. With—perhaps—a button?"
"And show my legs!" At the wrath in her client's voice the dressmaker breathed a hurried:
"Oh, Meddam!—Indeed, Meddam, I had no intention—I was going to suggest a fold ... underneath..."
"Not at all!" The irate lady snapped. "You've plenty of turnings. Let it out. That's better ... Now, pin it ... There!——" Again she took a step forward. "I can move at last. I'm sure I don't know what we're coming to! You'll be asking me next to dye my hair blue! In my young days..."
There came a low tap at the door, breaking through the current of her memories.
"Come in!—What is it?" She wheeled round, displeased.