Newcome. No trouble in the world to show anything; that's what I am here for. (Sighs as he attains the clarets and fetches them to the counter.) Rich shades; ten tints in these also, calculated to suit any taste.
Maud. I always did like claret.
Ethel. Yes, it is so becoming.
Maud. It has such a warm look, too!
Ethel. Now, that—no, this one—no, please, that darker piece—yes. Maud, dear, that made up with plush and garnet buttons and buckles—Oh, did I tell you I saw some such lovely garnet trimmings at Blank's last week, only seventy-five cents a yard, just a perfect match for this. Wouldn't it be too lovely for anything?
Maud. Indeed it would. I am almost tempted myself. Claret is my color, you know.
Newcome. A splendid shade, madam, and only just two dress lengths left.
Ethel. Is this the same goods as the others?
Newcome. The very same; all-wool imported suitings, forty-four inches wide, reduced from two-fifty a yard to only one dollar and a half.
Maud. Wouldn't that be just perfect with that white muff and boa of mine, dearest?