'Thirty shillings,' said the shop-woman. 'No,
Cheap Cigarette, pardon me Madame,
thirty-five. The French gloves are more.'
For one doesn't live for oneself, thought Clarissa.
And then the other customer took a glove, tugged it, and it split.
'There!' she exclaimed .
'A fault of the skin,
Cheap Newports,' said the grey-headed woman hurriedly. 'Sometimes a
drop of acid in tanning. Try this pair, Madame.'
'But it's an awful swindle to ask two pound ten!'
Clarissa looked at the lady; the lady looked at Clarissa.
'Gloves have never been quite so reliable since the war,
Wholesale Newport Cigarettes,' said the
shop-girl, apologising, to Clarissa.