L'Aiglon - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Coat wide open!
THE DUKE.
Then, to give color when the wearer moves, The skirts are lined with scarlet.
THE TAILOR.
Scarlet!
Oh, ravis.h.i.+ng.
THE DUKE.
Well, but about the waistcoat.
How do you see the waistcoat?
THE TAILOR.
Shall we say--?
THE DUKE.
The waistcoat's white.
THE TAILOR.
What taste!
THE DUKE.
And then I think Knee breeches.
THE TAILOR.
Ah!
THE DUKE.
Yes.
THE TAILOR.
Any color?
THE DUKE.
No.
I rather think I see them white cashmere.
THE TAILOR.
Well, after all, white is the more becoming.
THE DUKE.
The b.u.t.tons are engraved.
THE TAILOR.
That's not good style.
THE DUKE.
Yes; something--nothing--merely little eagles.
THE TAILOR.
Eagles!
THE DUKE.
Well? What are you afraid of, sir?
And wherefore does your hand shake, master tailor?
What is there strange about the suit of clothes?
Do you no longer boast your skill to make it?
THE FITTER.
Coalscuttle bonnet neatly trimmed with poppies.
THE DUKE.
Take home your latest fas.h.i.+ons and your patterns; That little suit's the only one I want.
THE TAILOR.
But I--
THE DUKE.
'Tis well. Begone, and be discreet.
THE TAILOR.
Yet--
THE DUKE.
'Twould not fit me.
