"Then, Miss Stuart," he rapped out, "you should have made it your  business to know, shouldn't you?" He had plainly not forgiven her for  stepping out of line and speaking disparagingly, if only by implication,  of his fiancée. "How right you were to say that you had no intention of  following Miss Grierson's example. More's the pity. If you did you  might become just a little more efficient."

She supposed that in the circumstances she deserved his sarcasm. All the  same she had to defend herself. "But, Mr. Pascall, Miss Grierson never  told me anything. And I've only been in this job two days. How could I-"

"I rang about my mother's dress, Miss Stuart, not to discuss your length of service as a buyer with the firm."

"I'm-I'm sorry, Mr. Pascall. I'll find the dress straight away."

"You'd better, Miss Stuart. And fast." He rammed the receiver down.

The marking-off room, Gayle told herself feverishly, where goods were  price-tagged and stored before being passed on to the various  departments-that was where Mrs. Pascall's dress would be.

"Yes," said the manager of that department, "we've had a dress here for  her ladyship about a week. Been wondering what to do with the thing,  short of wrapping it in gold leaf and putting it in a glass case. If  anybody so much as breathes on Her Highness's purchases, they're for the  high jump. They might as well hand in their notice on the spot. Be glad  to get the costly item off our hands. Shall I send it down?"

"No, thank you, Mr. Hardy. I'll come and get it myself. It will be safer that way."

As Gayle rang off, Mrs. Carrington put a cup of tea on the desk. "Save  you going up to the staff canteen for it, dear. Pay me later."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Mrs. Carrington. I'll just drink a  mouthful, then have the rest when I get back. I must go and rescue Mrs.  Pascall's dress from the hazards of the marking-off room. It seems she  wants it for some dinner tonight, so heaven help us if it doesn't arrive  on her doorstep in mint condition!"

Gayle gulped a mouthful of tea, then left it to race upstairs.  Reverently in the lift, she carried the dress draped over her arms. Its  colour was flame, the material sheerest chiffon, the sleeves were full  and caught into a wrist band, and from a gathered waistline the skirt  fell in folds to the hem.

Mrs. Carrington admired it profusely. "Bet it cost a small fortune. I'll  pack it for you, dear. Things are slack in this department, Can't think  why. I'm used to being rushed off my feet."

"I did hope," Gayle said with a worried frown, "that regrouping the dresses into price ranges might bring the customers in."

"Perhaps we'll have to give the change-over more time to be noticed."  She said frankly, "Not exactly cheap, are they, some of these clothes?"

"Miss Grierson," Gayle said, exaggerating her predecessor's superior accent, "didn't want to lower the tone of the department."

Mrs. Carrington laughed. "Well, she kept her job, so the turnover in her  time couldn't have been that bad. Of course," with a confiding smile,  "when you're as well in with the boss as she was, you couldn't expect  her to lose her job, could you?" She held out her arms for Mrs.  Pascall's dress.

"It's all right, Mrs. Carrington. Carry on serving-if you can find anyone to serve! I'll pack this."

Gayle took the dress into her office and draped it across the desk. One  thing she had learnt from Carla was how to fold and pack a dress.  Carla's expensive clientele expected their clothes to be treated with  the utmost care, both in the handling and the delivery of the garments.  Disliking the job of packing them herself, it was one of the first  things Carla had taught her assistant to do.

In a cupboard, Gayle found a large flat box. With the intention of  placing it beside the dress, she swung it off the shelf towards the  desk. She misjudged the speed with which her hands were moving and  collided with the teacup. It clattered on to its side, flinging with a  gesture of grand generosity its entire contents in a wide horizontal  sweep across the front of the unbelievably expensive, flame-coloured  couture model gown.