Then he stubbed out his cigarette and got to his feet. He brushed a few specks of ash from his waistcoat, and ambled towards the door. 'I'll be in touch,' he said, and went out.


CHAPTER ONE

A Resignation

Jane Clifton was fuming. Some customers were absolutely intolerable. And Mrs. Amelia Bottway just about took the cake. Jane replaced the red dress on the hanger, took down a green one, and returned to Mrs. Bottway.

'Perhaps you would care to try this one, madam.'

'Oh, really, you are the most stupid girl! I told you distinctly not green.' She had a piercing voice.

Jane reddened, then swallowed hard. 'I'm sorry, madam. I didn't hear you. I'm afraid this is the last one of your size in a bright-coloured satin.'

'Well it's no good to me at all. None of them 'ave been. You've been wasting my time. It's disgraceful.'

'I've shown you nine gowns, madam. I'm sorry if none of them is suitable, but—'

'I shall 'ave to try h'elsewhere. Somewhere where they keep a adequate stock - and employ some h'intelligent girls.' Mrs. Bottway straggled to her feet and fixed Jane with what was plainly meant to be a withering glance.

Jane looked back at her with revulsion, her face fixed in what she called her painted-doll expression. The foul-mannered, ugly old barrel, she thought to herself. How dare she speak to me like that?

'You foul-mannered, ugly old barrel,' she said loudly and distinctly, 'how dare you speak to me like that!'

She hadn't meant to say this: the words had just come. But they were out now, and Jane suddenly felt very much better.

For several seconds Mrs. Bottway did not react at all. Then slowly her face started to go purple. Jane suddenly realised that she was the centre of attention. There were three or four other customers in the shop, and, together with the assistants, they were all staring at her speechlessly.

Mrs. Bottway, whose complexion by now resembled an overripe plum, at last got her mouth open. 'You—' she said, 'you - you - you 'ussy.'

Jane watched her with a cool and curiously detached air. She marshalled her thoughts: might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.

'Mrs. Bottway,' she said, 'you and your sort sicken me. You are insolent, bad-tempered, and arrogant. You've got pots of money and not the first idea how to spend it.