This squirrel is beautiful,
but I believe I like the dark fur the better. I think I'll try that
marten again."
Hedin was thinking rapidly. He had known from the first that the
darker fur was the fur for her, yet he had refrained from making any
direct suggestion.
"Just a moment, please," he said. "Won't you button that coat once
more, I want to get an artificial light effect." As he spoke, he moved
toward the windows and drew the shades. Returning in the gloom, he
reached swiftly into the fur safe and withdrew the Russian sable coat
which he deftly deposited on top of the marten coat that lay with
several others upon a nearby table. As the girl turned from the glass,
he switched on the light.
"All right," he said, a moment later. "If you care to try on the
marten again, we'll see how that shows up under the artificial."
Deftly he lifted the squirrel from her shoulders, and, picking up the
Russian sable, held it while she slipped her arms into the sleeves. As
she buttoned it, he stepped back, and viewed the result through
critically puckered eyes. With an effort he refrained from voicing his
enchantment with the living picture before him. Old John was right--it
was a coat fit for a queen!
"I like this one best. I'll take it."
Hedin agreed. "I think you have chosen wisely," he answered, adding,
as she started to loosen the garment at the throat, "Just a minute--the
set of the collar in the back----" He stepped behind her, raised the
collar a trifle with his fingers, smoothed it into place, and stepped
aside to note the effect.
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