Marie looked at the fabric swatches spread out on the coffee table, a frown marring her delicate lips.
“What about this one?”
The tip of one slender finger touched a deep red velvet.
“Ah, that’s Russian velvet.” Anton clapped his hands together. “Very popular in the upper circles.”
“Are Russians well known for their velvet?”
“I don’t really know, madam.”
“Never mind, then. To be honest, I find velvet a rather heavy fabric, don’t you?” She paused. “Do you have any Russian silk?”
“Ah, no. For curtains?”
“I don’t know, I think silk curtains would be absolutely marvellous. They’d practically dance in the breeze.”
Anton dabbed at his forehead with his handkerchief.
“I… I can make some enquiries.”
“Good. Whilst you do that, could you also find out if Russia is known for its velvet? I’m curious.”
“Of course, madam.”
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