It was white, of course; and he was not
sure, but he thought it was made of cloth. Anyway there was a lot of
embroidery on it, full of little holes, which somehow contrived to be
extraordinarily fetching. It had a mantle which hung in soft folds,
marvellously intricate, yet simple in effect; and he could have fallen
upon the neck of the stout, powdered lady in black silk who assured him
that the costume could be worn without alteration by any "_dame de jolie
taille_."
He bought it instantly, and then seized upon precisely such a "long
white thing" of ermine as he had seen in his mind's eye. A "granny" muff
went with it. (Really the people of the shop must have had prophetic
souls!) And there was a white hat, with a gold buckle and a long white
ostrich feather which looked as if it had been born to shade the face of
Evelyn Clifford.
When these "confections" had been secured, Madame of the black satin and
powdered nose assured Monsieur that his Christmas purchases would be
incomplete without a certain blouse which, to an untutored eye, appeared
to be a combination of sea-foam and rose-leaves.
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