The rest of the week passed uneventful. I heard nothing from Jacques. Perhaps he changed his mind. I got home on Friday night really late. It was nine o'clock! Then, thirty minutes before I got home, Henri told me he needed me to file the orders made in the past month! It took me three hours! When I arrived at the boardinghouse, all the lights were off. I crept in, the kitchen close at 7. I wouldn't eat tonight. I went into my room and opened my satchel. It was made of black lace. I had 12 francs. Enough for a meal. I grabbed the money and headed for the door. About when I was about to touch the knob, someone gently rapped twice. I quickly ran to my bed, pulled down the covers, and jumped in. "Come in." I said quietly. Giselle came in. "I noticed that you weren't at supper. So I saved you some." She opened her napkin to revel a slab of ham, two apples. And a piece of some sort of nut bread." "Thank you!" I said. I began eating and told her of my day. Then I told her all about Zidler's offer. And she said she'd lend me her colored chalks to color in my designs. She began helping me folding and measuring ribbons and bows and immeasurable yards of fabric. We stayed up all night. I was glad she was there to help me.
We stayed up the whole night, drawing and redrawing designs. "I wouldn't mind wearing this!" Giselle said, holding up a sketch of my most elaborate design. It was covered in diamonds, and had a sort of a ringmaster look to it, complete with a top hat. Well, what can I say besides that I can be absurdly creative? It had a huge, gorgeous heart shaped diamond in the center. I was glad that Harold Zidler could see my often too provocative designs. It was to be a very unusual job, and I didn't know quite exactly what he had in mind for me to do. "But nothing is too provococative." he had said in a telegram. "In fact, less is preferred." I'm certain that my grandmother would of had a fit if she knew what I was doing. She didn't even approve of women working outside the home, let alone a nightclub. Giselle eyed me curiously. "Are you wearing a corset?" She asked, looking at my hips. "Um, yes." I said. "Stand up." I obeyed, curious to know why she was so curious. She wrapped her hands around my waist. "My, my, my!" She gasped, "I can almost wrap both of my hands around you! You almost don't need one! You are very fortunate." I laughed. "Wait here, and take off that one, I want you to try another one on." I did, having trouble with it. "Another one?!?" I mumbled, "There isn't any doubt it will be tiny and even more uncomfortable then this one! And it already has cut me in half. Giselle came rushing back. She had in her hands a death contraption. Or, a corset. "This was my sister's. She passed it down to me, but I was too hefty for it." She unlaced it. She motioned for me to stand. When I did, she wrapped around my waist. I immediately felt the breath escape me. She laced it, tight, tighter. I felt as if I were turning blue. "Tight enough?" "MMM "I mumbled. She mumbled and stepped away. My breathing turned back to normal. Then she went to my boudoir, and pulled out a brilliant blue dress. "You should wear this tomorrow night." I laughed. "Yeah, but I'm afraid if I wore it, he'd put me to work right away." I said. "Well, isn't that what you want, millions of little boys goggling at you?" She said batting her eyes. I laughed and threw a pillow at her. "Oh, don't wrinkle it!" She said shielding it, laughing. "Then it's settled. You WILL wear the dress Bridget Cummings. Or else I will come down to the Moulin Rouge and make a fool of myself. I laughed. "I don't think you'd be alone in doing that." I told her.
We stayed up the whole night, drawing and redrawing designs. "I wouldn't mind wearing this!" Giselle said, holding up a sketch of my most elaborate design. It was covered in diamonds, and had a sort of a ringmaster look to it, complete with a top hat. Well, what can I say besides that I can be absurdly creative? It had a huge, gorgeous heart shaped diamond in the center. I was glad that Harold Zidler could see my often too provocative designs. It was to be a very unusual job, and I didn't know quite exactly what he had in mind for me to do. "But nothing is too provococative." he had said in a telegram. "In fact, less is preferred." I'm certain that my grandmother would of had a fit if she knew what I was doing. She didn't even approve of women working outside the home, let alone a nightclub. Giselle eyed me curiously. "Are you wearing a corset?" She asked, looking at my hips. "Um, yes." I said. "Stand up." I obeyed, curious to know why she was so curious. She wrapped her hands around my waist. "My, my, my!" She gasped, "I can almost wrap both of my hands around you! You almost don't need one! You are very fortunate." I laughed. "Wait here, and take off that one, I want you to try another one on." I did, having trouble with it. "Another one?!?" I mumbled, "There isn't any doubt it will be tiny and even more uncomfortable then this one! And it already has cut me in half. Giselle came rushing back. She had in her hands a death contraption. Or, a corset. "This was my sister's. She passed it down to me, but I was too hefty for it." She unlaced it. She motioned for me to stand. When I did, she wrapped around my waist. I immediately felt the breath escape me. She laced it, tight, tighter. I felt as if I were turning blue. "Tight enough?" "MMM "I mumbled. She mumbled and stepped away. My breathing turned back to normal. Then she went to my boudoir, and pulled out a brilliant blue dress. "You should wear this tomorrow night." I laughed. "Yeah, but I'm afraid if I wore it, he'd put me to work right away." I said. "Well, isn't that what you want, millions of little boys goggling at you?" She said batting her eyes. I laughed and threw a pillow at her. "Oh, don't wrinkle it!" She said shielding it, laughing. "Then it's settled. You WILL wear the dress Bridget Cummings. Or else I will come down to the Moulin Rouge and make a fool of myself. I laughed. "I don't think you'd be alone in doing that." I told her.