"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 . . .
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