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Try, Try Again
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In the mean time, a preview of this story is shown below. It's about the first half.
"It isn't right."
Marie lowered her eyes so that her employer wouldn't see the glare she couldn't suppress. "Ma'am, I did what the package said to do. Twice." She picked up the container of Spirits of Hartshorn and tried to get Frau Werrin to look at it.
The Frau ignored her pointing finger. "If these American's can get bright shining white, we can get bright shining white. Try again. Try the other product—the, what do they call it? The bleach."
Marie nodded. Frau Werrin stomped out of the laundry area and slammed the door. Marie shook her head at the retreating back. Damn the Americans anyway. Word of the costumes that had been worn for the ballet had even reached this far and nothing would do but that Frau Werrin must have the glowing white fabric the reviews spoke of. No matter that wool—even white wool—tended to be a creamy color.
There was nothing else to try and her job was on the line. Marie heated another ...
That ends the preview. Probably in the middle of a sentence. Sorry.