Albert had bidden her to go to buy a stole and other things,
to keep her eyes open, and to report to Hugo in person if she observed
anything queer. He had even given her a pass which would ensure her
immediate admittance to any of Hugo's private lairs. Therefore, Lily
felt extremely important, extremely like a detective's wife. She knew
that Albert trusted her, and she was very proud that she had not asked
him any questions concerning a matter exasperatingly mysterious. Albert
had taught her that a detective's wife should crucify curiosity.
She fought her way to a counter in the fur department.
'The guinea stoles?' she inquired from a shopwalker.
'I--I beg pardon, miss,' said the shopwalker.
'Madam,' Lily corrected him. 'I want one of those silvered fox-stoles
advertised at a guinea.'
'You'll probably find them over there, madam,' said the shopwalker,
pointing.
'Aren't you sure?' she asked tartly. 'I don't want to struggle across
there and then find they're somewhere else.'
The shopwalker turned his back on her.
'Well, I never!' she exclaimed to herself, and decided that Albert
should avenge her.
Then, behind the counter, she saw a girl whom she used to serve with a
glass of milk every morning.
'Oh, Miss Lawton,' she cried, as an equal to an equal, 'can you tell me
where the stoles are to be found?'
'Probably over there, Mrs.
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