or

"And Christel will certainly have no problems with it. The other girls will be clamoring for one just like it."
"I want one," Shanea blurted. "But I don't have anything to trade!"
"I'll see if I can fit you into my busy schedule," Mirta replied. "Now that I've got the pattern in mind, turning more out won't be all that difficult. Some . . . small, strong stitches involved, but not hard ones."
"I can't wear this out of here," Megan complained. "Every time I sit down I'll show all I've got!"
"Not so," Mirta said, stepping to the side. "The method for sitting is thus. You point your toes and roll down onto your legs." The woman demonstrated, gracefully sitting without spreading her legs or showing anything she didn't care to show to the audience.
"Where did you learn that?" Megan asked.
"That's for me to know, dearie." Mirta laughed, getting up with almost the reverse motion. "When you sit, you stay in the same position, with your feet tucked under your butt. Nobody gets to see anything you don't want to show. Drives guys nuts. Try it."
After a few tries Megan had managed to sit without collapsing or spreading her legs and she realized that it was how Mirta always sat down. It was both elegant and, she suspected, alluring. A graceful and sexy motion. Grand.
"Now, go show it off," Mirta said.
"I'm not going to parade around in this . . . this . . ."
"Go show it to Christel," Mirta said, definitely. "You will too 'parade' around in it. You're my walking advertisement. Get out there and advertise."
"You evil old . . ."
"Ah, ah," Mirta smiled. "Me?" she added in a little girl voice. "I'm just . . . just a little girl . . ."
"Right," Megan said, facing the door. "And I'm Sheida Ghorbani."
She strode down the corridor and into