Glaring openly now, tired of the cat and mouse game, Sonja begins to deliberatly pull any pins that she could find, discarding them one by one onto the floor. "Then let<em>him</em>where the gown. Until someone tells me what in the gods' name is going on, what your" a finger jabs toward Greta, "not telling me I have had enough." Though her finger had jabbed at the seamstress her hard glare was fixed upon the maid, she seeming to be the one who is in charge of this show. Her fingers continue trying to work the pins loose, slowly wincing only when a few jabbed into her thumb from inept handling.