I am that I should
be back," Abe replied. "Not that the trip ain't paid us, Mawruss,
because I got a trunkful of samples on the way up here which I assure
you is a work of art."

"Sure, I know!" Morris commented with just a tinge of bitterness in his
tones; "Paris is the place for styles. Us poor suckers over here don't
know a thing about designing."

"Well, Mawruss, I'll tell you," Abe went on: "you are a first-class, A
number one designer, I got to admit, and there ain't nobody that I
consider is better as you in the whole garment trade; but"--here he
paused to unfasten his suitcase--"but, Mawruss," he continued, "I got
here just one sample style which I brought it with me, Mawruss, and I
think, Mawruss, you would got to agree with me, such models we don't
turn out on this side."

Here he opened the suitcase, and carefully taking out the dress of the
Cafe de la Paix he spread it on a sample table.

"What d'ye think of that, Mawruss?" he asked.

Morris made no answer. He was gazing at the garment with bulging eyes,
and beads of perspiration ran down his forehead.

"Abe!" he gasped at length, "where did you get that garment from?"

Before Abe could answer, the elevator door opened and a young lady
stepped out. It was now Abe's turn to gasp, for the visitor was no other
than the tanned and ruddy young person from the Cafe de la Paix.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Perlmutter," she said. "I've just got back."

"Oh, good afternoon, Miss Smith!" Morris cried.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you," she continued.

"Not at all," Morris said; "not at all."

Then a wave of recollection came over him, and he muttered a
half-smothered exclamation.

"Abe, Miss Smith," he almost shouted, and then he sat down. "Say,
lookyhere, Abe, what is all this, anyway? Miss Smith comes in here
and----"

"Well, upon my word!" Miss Smith interrupted; "if it isn't the gentleman
from the Cafe de la Paix--and, of all things, there is the very dress!"

Abe shrugged his shoulders.

"That's right, Miss Whatever-your-name is," Abe admitted; "that's the
dress, and since I paid you sixty dollars for it I don't think you got
any kick coming."

"Sixty dollars!" Morris cried. "Why, that dress as a sample garment only
cost us twenty-two-fifty to make up."

"Cost us?" Abe repeated. "As a sample garment? What are you talking
about?"

"I am talking about this, Abe," Morris replied: "that dress is the
self-same garment which I designed it, and which