As she inserted the toe of her exquisitely shod foot into the opening, she remarked maliciously: "It is impossible to find decent clothes in New York--one might as well give up trying.

Paris dressmakers send you only their failures." And, having crushed Madame to silence, she finished her dressing, fastened her black lace veil with a flying swallow in diamonds, flung her feather boa over her shoulders, and taking up her gold chain bag, studded with rubies, marched out of the establishment with all the pomp and impressiveness of a military parade.
"I've lost her.

She will never come back," moaned Madame, and burst into tears.
"But she couldn't possibly have worn that gown.

She would have found it out as soon as she got home," replied Gabriella reassuringly, though her heart was almost as heavy as Madame's.
It was all her fault, of course, as Madame, recovering her voice as she lost her temper, began immediately to tell her.

It was all her fault, and yet how could she have stood there and lied to the woman in cold blood because Madame expected it of her as a part of her work?
That she had infuriated Madame and imperilled her position she realized perfectly; but, realizing this, she still felt that she could not have told Mrs.Pletheridge that the gown was becoming to her.