Newcome (mildly). Do you think you'll decide on the brown, madam?
Ethel. Oh, dear! I don't know. It is so hard to shop for some one else!
Maud. It is horrid.
Ethel. I vow every time I do it that it shall be the last. I am always so afraid of getting something that the person won't like.
[Sighs.
Newcome. Any lady must like this brown, madam. Just feel the texture of this piece of goods, and take the trouble to examine the quality. Why, I have never in all my experience sold a piece of goods of such a class at a cent less than two dollars a yard—never.
Maud. It is very fine.
Ethel (vaguely eying the goods behind the counter on the shelves). Is that a piece of claret-colored that I see up there?
Newcome (lays down the browns with a faint sigh of reluctance). Yes, oh, yes.
Ethel. Never mind to get it down.