And in Lyons they got out a new kind of silk--but that
is still a French secret."
"Why a secret? The silk is certainly being worn already?"
"Yes, one does see it being worn already, but when it was first
manufactured, the greatest secret was made of it. They were afraid the
Germans would imitate. You understand?"
"Oh, but what is the latest style?"
"I really can't explain it to you. All I know is, it is something
awful."
"She can't explain! That means she doesn't want to explain. Oh, the
cunning one. What a sly look she has in her eyes." So thought the
captain's wife. From the very beginning of the conversation, the two
warm friends, it need scarcely be said, were mutually distrustful.
Each had the conviction that everything the other said was to be taken
in the very opposite sense. They were of about the same age, Mrs.
Shaldin possibly one or two years younger than Mrs. Zarubkin. Mrs.
Zarubkin was rather plump, and had heavy light hair. Her appearance
was blooming. Mrs. Shaldin was slim, though well proportioned. She was
a brunette with a pale complexion and large dark eyes. They were two
types of beauty very likely to divide the gentlemen of the regiment
into two camps of admirers.
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