So it wasn't at all in the manner of a disheartened applicant for work
that she pushed open the glass door with _"Gibbons. Modes_." painted on
it, and stepped inside.
A bell had rung somewhere in the distance as she opened the door, and
there was no one in the room as she entered it. But she hadn't much time
to look around--only long enough to get the impression that the place
was somehow overflowing with hats--when another door opened, and a thin,
gray-haired, tight little woman (she had a tight dress and tight hair,
and her joints, when she moved, seemed to be tight, too) confronted her.
She was unmistakably Miss Gibbons and in that first glance, Rose liked
her. Her features were rather too big for her small face--a big nose not
finely made, a wide thin-lipped mouth, and a long chin--and her eyes,
looking very straight out through gold-rimmed spectacles, had a
penetrating brightness about them that was a little formidable. It was
not what one would call a good-natured face. But good-natured
sentimentality was the last thing Rose was looking for.
Pages:
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825