THE DRESS SEEMED TO FLOAT down around her head, obscuring her vision in a soft blur of translucent white; then she felt Roberta pull it down over her shoulders, and she could see again: the familiar disorganization of Roberta’s workroom, the racks of clothing in various stages of alteration and repair, the dressmaker’s mannequin, the big worktable scattered with spare zippers, boxes of buttons, scissors and swatches. Outside, the skyline of upper Manhattan shimmered in the late spring haze.展开