Allie's disappointment at the death of her dream she hid under an assumption of indifference; she merely pawed over the pretty things shown her and pretended to ignore the ridicule she and her mother excited.

But her face was stony, her eyes were hopeless, miserable.
For once in his life Calvin Gray was at a loss, and knowledge of that fact caused him to chew savagely at his cigar.

To his bewildered companions he remained enthusiastic, effervescent, but behind their backs he glowered at the well-groomed customers and cursed the snickering models who paraded their wares.

Engaged thus, he became aware of a stranger who looked on at the pitiful little comedy without amusement.

She was a pretty thing.