The old woman pouted. "You won't listen. I'm done talking..."
Cecilia Adler patted her arm. "This skirt is nice. The fabric looks coarse, but it feels comfortable. The color suits your age, too. Want to try it on?"
The old woman's eyes swept over the long skirt; it was well-made and stylish. 'If I were twenty years younger, I'd definitely wear it.' "What woman in her sixties wears skirts on the street? Cecilia, let's just go home. I'm exhausted after walking around the school."
Youth really was something else. The girl had been cycling for half the day with her, a nearly ninety-pound passenger, on the back, yet her face wasn't flushed and she wasn't even out of breath.
She was still full of energy as she showed her around.
"Alright." Cecilia started to walk out with her grandmother, but she paused at the fabric counter. "Grandma, the fabrics here are quite pretty. Let's take a look. If we find something suitable, we can buy it and you can make something yourself."
"Okay."
