"This frock cost a hundred
and fifty dollars, and I never wore it but once!"
She held up a tattered blue net adorned with straggling, crushed,
artificial rosebuds, its sole pretension to a waist being a couple of
straps of silver tissue attached to a couple of rags of blue net. It
looked for all the world like a draggled butterfly.
"It's torn in one or two places," pursued Gila's ready tongue, "but it's
easily mended. I wore it to a dance and somebody stepped on the hem. I
suppose you are good at mending. A girl in your position ought to know
how to sew. My maid usually mends things like this with a thread of
itself. You can pull one out along the hem, I should think. Then here is
a pink satin. It needs cleaning. They don't charge more than two or
three dollars--or perhaps you might use gasolene. I had slippers to
match, but I couldn't find but one. I brought that along. I thought you
might do something with it. They were horribly expensive--made to order,
you know. Then this cerise chiffon, all covered with sequins, is really
too showy for a girl in your station, but in case you get a chance to
act you might need it, and anyhow I never cared for it. It isn't
becoming to me. Here's an indigo charmeuse with silver trimmings. I got
horribly tired of it, but you will look stunning in it. It might even
help you catch a rich husband; who knows! There's half a dozen pairs of
white evening gloves! I might have had them cleaned, but if you can use
them I can get new ones.
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