By half-past twelve the three were back at lunch in the hotel. Over the
coffee Monsieur Raudel looked reflectively at his well-shaped nails.
"Well, mademoiselle, so this is what it is to have a woman chauffeur--"
Fanny looked up nervously, regretting her confidence in the Bearskin.
"Apart from the pleasure of your company with us, we get cheap cigars,
and you get your dance, so every one is pleased."
"Oh!" She was radiant. "But you haven't hurried too much? Are we really
starting back?"
Monsieur Raudel, who was a new man when he wasn't cold, reassured her,
and soon they were all packed in the Renault, and running out of Treves.
CHAPTER IX
THE CRINOLINE
That same night as dusk fell she shook the snow from her feet and
clothes and entered the dressmaker's kitchen. Four candles were burning
beside the gas, and the tea-cups lay heaped and unwashed upon
the dresser.
"Good-evening, good-evening," murmured a number of voices, German and
French, and the old dressmaker, standing up, her face haggard under the
gas, took both Fanny's hands with a whimper:
"It will never be done! Oh, dear child, it will _never_ be done!"
The crinoline which they were preparing lay in white rags upon the
table.
"Oh, Elsa, that is good! Are you helping too?" Elsa had brought three of
her friends with her, and the four bright, bullety heads bent over the
long frills which moved slowly through their sewing fingers.
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