Arthur had a tourist's tongue, a businessman's tongue, the kind you acquire for six months at a time in full immersion. He was better at French than anything else but his Japanese was almost there. He could fake Italian and Spanish mostly by mixing the two up with a lot of gesturing. Fortunately, the dream space was multilingual, and you could sink yourself into someone else's mind deep enough that language didn't matter.
Arthur didn't like that anxious look on her face when she talked about spending, but he didn't mention it other than to give Mike a slightly harder stare. Returning his attention to the racks he said, "Alors, you want mostly clothes for day and perhaps one or two loud things for evening. A good light jacket and a good heavy coat, in case it rains, no?" Arthur enjoyed this kind of thing far too much. "Currently the style is separate pieces, so I think you like long lines, yes, so long skirts and layers on top." He moved around to one wall and surveyed, pointing at a wispy skirt in jewel tones.