Gloria Greene looked disparagingly at the girl’s slack and flaccid body.
“When you develop something to put ’em on,” said she curtly.
“But I thought that if I had some nice clothes—”
“You’d develop inside them like the butterfly in the chrysalis,” supplemented the other. “Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way with humans. Didn’t I tell you yesterday that it wasn’t going to be easy?”
“Yes. But you’re not telling me anything now. You’re just—just discouraging me.”
“Why, you poor-spirited little grub, you haven’t even touched the outer edge of discouragement yet. Here! Can you do this?” Lifting her hands high above her glowing head, Gloria swept them down in a long curve of beauty, until she stood bowed but with unbending knees, her pink fingers flattened on the floor.
“Of course I can’t,” whined Darcy.
“Try it,” suggested the other enticingly. “It isn’t hard.”
Darcy did not stir. “I’ve got corsets on,” said she.
“You have. Awful ones. Take ’em off.”