You ask for a satin dress in a bright colour. I ask you - with your figure! You'd look even more grotesque than you do now.'

She got no further. For from behind her came a voice raised in a screech. 'Clifton!'

Jane swung round to confront the proprietor of Mayfair Modes, Monsieur Anton. 'Clifton - you wicked, wicked girl. You will apologise to madam this instant.' He was almost hopping with rage.

Jane interrupted quietly. 'I shall apologise to nobody. I meant every word of it. Don't bother to say any more. It's too late. You can't fire me. I resign!'

And she strode to her cubicle, jammed her hat on her head, grabbed up her coat and handbag, and made for the door. Just inside it, she turned.

'Mr. Anton,' she said loudly, 'I have a week's wages due to me - three pounds, seven shillings and sixpence exactly. But don't bother to send it on. Put it towards the cost of a new wig.' And with her head held high, Jane marched out into Bond Street.

She walked off briskly, struggling into her coat as she did so, and cursing herself for a prize idiot. Fancy throwing up a steady job, walking out without a reference - and no hope of getting one now! - not even claiming what was rightfully hers; when she had just £9 18s 7d in her bank account and 11s 3 1/4d in her purse.

But it had been worth it. Their faces! Jane suddenly laughed out loud - greatly to the surprise of a plump, bowler-hatted little man she happened to be passing.

'Jane - wait!' The voice came from behind her and Jane spun round to see a small, red-haired girl darting along the pavement towards her.

'Gerry!' she exclaimed.

Lady Geraldine Saunders, only daughter of the twelfth Earl of Burford, rushed up to Jane and caught her by both hands. 'Jane - darling - what a simply devastating performance!'

Jane stared. 'You were there?'

'You bet I was there. I called in to ask you to lunch. I was just waiting quietly for you to finish with that ghastly person when you suddenly blew up. It was magnificent. Jane, tell me, does that funny little man really wear a wig?'

'Not that I know of. But everyone will think he does now, won't they?'

Gerry gurgled happily. 'Oh, how priceless. Jane, you must come and lunch with me at the Ritz. It's ages since I saw you. I've got tons to talk about.'

'You'll have to treat me, Gerry, if you really want the honour of my company. I'm absolutely stony broke.'

'Who isn't, darling? But I can just run to it.