Out of nowhere, other human girls materialized among the crowd and carefully opened a path towards the back of the enormous room along which Madame progressed as though propelled by invisible forces.
Glenda felt that the situation had suddenly got away from her, but it had been a good measure of sherry and it whispered to her, 'Why not let a situation get away from you every once in a while? Or even just once' She had no idea what she was expecting behind the gilded door at the far end, but she had not expected smoke and flames and shouting and someone screaming in a corner. The place looked like a foundry on the day they let the clowns in.
'Come on through. Don't let this disturb you,' said Madame. 'It's always like this at show time. Nerves, you know. Of course, everyone in this business is lowly strung and there is always this problem to begin with with the micromail. It's new, you see. According to dwarf law it must be hallmarked on every link and that would not only be sacrilege, but also bloody difficult to do.' Behind the scenes, it appeared that Madame became a little less chocolatey and a little more earthy.
'Micromail!' said Juliet, as if she had been shown the gateway to riches.
'You know what it is?' said Madame.
'She talks about nothing else,' said Glenda. 'Talks and talks.'
'Well, of course, it's wonderful stuff,' said Madame. 'Almost as soft as cloth, certainly better than leather - '
' - and it doesn't chafe,' said Juliet.
'Which is always a consideration for the more traditional dwarf who will not wear cloth,' said Madame. 'Old tribal customs, how they hold us back, always pull us back. We haul ourselves out of the mine, but somehow we always drag a bit of the mine with us. If I had my way, silk would be reclassified as a metal. What is your name, young lady?'
'Juliet,' said Glenda automatically, and then blushed. That was mumming, pure and simple. It was almost as bad as getting someone to spit on their handkerchief and wiping their face for them. The young lady with the drinks had followed them in and chose this moment to take Glenda's sherry glass and replace it with a full one.
'Would you mind just walking up and down a moment, Juliet?' said Madame.
Glenda wanted to ask why, but since her mouth was full of sherry as an anti-embarrassment remedy, she let that one pass.
Madame watched Juliet critically, one hand cupping the elbow of the other arm.
'Yes, yes. But I mean slowly, as if you were not in a hurry to get there and didn't care,' said Madame. 'Imagine you're a bird in the air, a fish in the sea. Wear the world.'
'Oh, right,' said Juliet and started again.
By the time Juliet was halfway across the floor for the second time, Pepe had burst into tears. 'Where has she been? Where was she trained?' he, or conceivably she, squeaked while clapping his or her cheeks with both hands. 'You must hire her at once!'
'She's already got a good steady job at the university,' Glenda said. But the sherry said, 'Once in a while isn't over yet. Don't spoil it!'
Madame, who clearly had an instinct for this kind of thing, put an arm around her shoulders. 'The problem with dwarf ladies, you see, is that a lot of us are a little shy about being the centre of attention. I also have to bear in mind that dwarf clothing is proving quite interesting to young humans of a certain turn of mind. Your daughter is human - ' Madame turned briefly to Juliet. 'You are human, aren't you, dear? I find it pays to check.'
Juliet, apparently staring rapturously into a private world, nodded enthusiastically.
'Oh good,' said Madame. 'And while she is exquisitely well built and moves like a dream, she is not too much taller than the average dwarf and frankly, my dear, some of the ladies would aspire to being a little taller than they are. This may be letting the side up, but that walk, my word. Dwarfs have hips, of course, but they seldom know what to do with them... I'm sorry, have I said something wrong?'
The half-pint of sherry so recently consumed by Glenda finally gave way under the pressure of her rage. 'I am not her mother. She is my friend.'
Madame shot her another of those looks that gave her the feeling that her brain was being taken out and examined minutely. 'Then would you mind if I paid your friend'-there was a pause-'five dollars to model for me this afternoon?'
'All right,' said the sherry to Glenda. 'You wondered where I was going to take you and here you are. Can you see the view? What are you going to do now?'
'Twenty-five dollars,' said Glenda.
Pepe clapped her, or possibly his, cheeks again and screamed, 'Yes! Yes!'
'And a shop discount,' said Glenda.
Madame gave her a long-drawn-out stare. 'Excuse me one moment,' said the dwarf.
She walked over and took Pepe's arm, walking him at some speed to the corner. Glenda could not hear what was said over some nearby riveting and someone having hysterics. Madame came back smirking artificially, Pepe trailing her. 'I have a show starting in ten minutes and my best model has dropped her pickaxe on her foot. We shall negotiate any future engagements. And will you please stop that jumping up and down, Pepe?'
Glenda blinked. I cannot believe I just did that, she thought. Twenty-five dollars for putting some clothes on! That's more than I earn in a month! That's just not right. And the sherry said, 'What exactly is wrong here? Would you dress up in chain mail and parade in front of a lot of strangers for twenty-five dollars?'
Glenda shuddered. Certainly not, she thought.