shoes to match, one Pompadour bathing-suit, one dressing-gown, one
close-fitting Medicis mantle, two opera cloaks----"

"And I was certainly not the most elegantly attired of the ladies
at Trouville, where I spent the month of July," interrupted the
baroness.

"There are but few entries in the month of August," continued Van
Klopen. "We have: a morning-dress, a travelling-dress, with
trimmings----" And he went on and on, gasping for breath, rattling
off the ridiculous names which he gave to his "creations," and
interrupted every now and then by the blow of a clinched fist on
the table, or by a savage oath.

Pascal stood in the smoking-room, motionless with astonishment.
He did not know what surprised him the most, Van Klopen's
impudence in daring to read such a bill, the foolishness of the
woman who had ordered all these things, or the patience of the
husband who was undoubtedly going to pay for them. At last, after
what seemed an interminable enumeration, Van Klopen exclaimed:
"And that's all!"

"Yes, that's all," repeated the baroness, like an echo.

"That's all!" exclaimed the baron--"that's all! That is to say, in
four months, at least seven hundred yards of silk, velvet, satin,
and muslin, have been put on this woman's back!"

"The dresses of the present day require a great deal of material.
Monsieur le Baron will understand that flounces, puffs, and