"Then you have been in costume elsewhere?"
"Oh no. Never in costume."
"If you will permit, monsieur, undress, please. You naturally wear a supporter?"
"Certainly," Ken said. "I'm sure I shouldn't—"
She barely smiled. "I will return presently, with everything else," she said and disappeared into the recesses of the atelier. A few minutes later as Ken, nude except for his strap, was powdering his body, she re-entered bearing his evening gown and a cardboard box containing the "foundation."
"It's chic, hein?" she asked as she showed him the gown. "And now," she opened the box, "the brassière. It is manufactured to order for Madame. These pads will embellish the line of the gown. Here, as you will notice, is a rubber cup which compresses the flesh so as to create the desired effect."
"Clever," Ken commented. "What else?"
"I know you will adore these," she said, revealing nearly transparent underthings. "You will, of course, shave your legs tonight for the stockings, which, by the way, have not yet arrived. As for slippers, Madame has selected half a dozen pair in the correct shade intended to give the appearance of a small foot. You may choose the most comfortable."
She lifted the cover of a smaller box. "The wig is of a natural titian; do you admire it?"
"Will it fit?" Ken asked.
"It cannot fail to fit. Now as to the gloves—they are not to be worn this season. Paris says they should be carried in the left hand. The wrap is rented. You will return it.
