He then turned to his regiment of men, made an abrupt sign with his hand, and uttered some word of command, whereupon the forty dirty hands of these twenty men proceeded to forage among my velvets, satins, and laces. I rushed forward to save my poor dresses from such outrageous violations, and I ordered our costume maker to lift my gowns out one at a time, which she accordingly did, aided by my maid, who was in tears at the small amount of respect shown by these boors to all my beautiful, fragile things. Two ladies had just arrived, very noisy and businesslike. One of them was short and stout, her nose seemed to begin at the roots of her hair; she had round, placid-looking eyes and a mouth like a snout; her arms she was hiding timidly behind her heavy, flabby bust and her ungainly knees seemed to come straight out of her groin. She looked like a seated cow. Her companion was like a terrapin, with her little, black, evil-looking head at the end of a neck which was too long, and very stringy. She kept shooting it out of her boa and drawing it back with the most incredible rapidity. The rest of her body bulged out.... These two delightful persons were the dressmakers sent for by the customhouse to estimate my costumes. They glanced at me in a furtive way and gave a little bow, full of bitterness and jealous rage at the sight of my dresses, and I was quite aware that two more enemies had now come upon the scene. These two odious shrews began to chatter and argue, pawing and crumpling my dresses and cloaks at the same time. They kept exclaiming in the most emphatic way: “Oh, how beautiful! What magnificence! What luxury! All our customers will want gowns like these and we shall never be able to make them! It will be the ruin of all the American dressmakers.” They were working up the judges into a state of excitement for this “chiffon court martial.” They kept lamenting, then going into raptures and asking for “justice” against foreign invasion. The ugly band of men nodded their heads in approval and spat on the ground to affirm their independence. Suddenly the Terrapin turned on one of the inquisitors: “Oh, isn’t it beautiful! Show it them, show it them!” she exclaimed, seizing on a dress all embroidered with pearls, which I wore in “La Dame aux Camélias.” “This dress is worth at least $10,000,” she said and then, coming up to me she asked: “How much did you pay for that dress, madame?”