"_Good_
Conquered Children!" They were sewing like little machines.
"The Fraeulein Schneiderin," explained Elsa, "is so upset."
And this was evident and needed no explaining. The little lady twisted
her fingers, grieved and scolded, snatching at this and that, and
rapping with her scissors upon the table as though she were going to
wear the dress herself.
"Mademoiselle, I had to get them." She nodded towards the busy Conquered
Children, apologising for them as though she feared Fanny might think
she had done a deal with the devil for her sake.
"Here are my frills," said Fanny, bringing from her pocket two paper
parcels, one of which she laid in mystery upon the table, the other
opened and shook out her two long frills. She drew off her leather coat
and sat down to sew.
"Oh, how calm you are!" burst out the dressmaker. "How can you be so
calm? It won't be finished."
"Yes, yes, yes. It's only half-past five. Can I have a needle?"
"My mother had a dress like this before the last war." (This for the
fiftieth time.) "And will your _amoureux_ be there?" she asked with the
licence of the old.
"Well, yes," said Fanny smiling, "he will."
"And what will he wear?"
"Oh, it's a secret. I don't know. But I chose this particular dress
because it is so feminine, and it will be the first time he has seen me
in the clothes of a woman.
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