CHAPTER TWENTY-ONEMarion Grey was showing a dress called Moonlight. There was very little of it, but what there was was quite well named. The time was five o’clock in the afternoon. Harriet St. Just’s showroom was full of women, some of whom had come there to amuse themselves and not to buy. Most of them called her Harry, or darling. She charged incredible prices for her clothes, and had contrived a quite astonishing success in the three years of her venture. She and Marion had been at school together, but she recognized no friendships during business hours. From ten to six Marion was simply Vania, and one of the best mannequins in London.
A dark, stooping woman, lined and haggard, called across half a dozen people.
“Harry, that’s divine! I’ll have it just as it is. Ask her to turn round
