"There will be
little to give to Konrad this time. So much money they
cost, those clothes! But Konrad, he will not care when
he sees the so beautiful dresses, is it not so?"
"Care!" I cried with a great deal of bravado,
although a tiny inner voice spake in doubt. "Certainly
not. How could he?"
Next day the boxes came, and we smuggled them into my
room. The unwrapping of the tissue paper folds was a
ceremony. We reveled in the very crackle of it. I had
scuttled home from the office as early as decency would
permit, in order to have plenty of time for the
dressing. It must be quite finished before Herr
Nirlanger should arrive. Frau Nirlanger had purchased
three tickets for the German theater, also as a surprise,
and I was to accompany the happily surprised husband and
the proud little wife of the new Amerikanische clothes.
I coaxed her to let me do things to her hair.
Usually she wore a stiff and ugly coiffure that could
only be described as a chignon. I do not recollect
ever having seen a chignon, but I know that it must
look like that. I was thankful for my Irish deftness of
fingers as I stepped back to view the result of my
labors. The new arrangement of the hair gave her
features a new softness and dignity.
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