" when the sale was over she should soon be made to see
that it wouldn't pay.

Even as it was, Win used up one whole check book, containing fifty
order forms, and also her own vitality. She had no time to realize how
tired she was until half-past twelve brought the sale to an end. Even
then a thing that happened pushed away thought of self for a few more
moments.

Walking beside Mr. Thorpe, the aisle manager, came a big,
auburn-haired, red-moustached man of thirty three or four, with a
particularly pleasant, smiling face of florid colour and excitable
blue eyes. He looked boyishly obstinate, and yet, Win thought, as if
he might be easy to "get round," unless some prejudice kept him firm.
She would not have thought of him at all had not the flush which
suddenly swept over Miss Stein's face suggested that this was "he."

Win was instantly sure that here was the man in the case; now,
_cherchez la femme_! And she had not to search far.

The two men did not come to the bargain square, but he of the red
moustache slowed down to throw a glance of intense interest at the
denuded counters and the customers who lingered, though the sale was
ended, to buy "Pavlovas" at their suddenly augmented price. He spoke
to the floorwalker, and got some answer which Miss Stein would
evidently have given at least a week out of her life to hear. Then the
pair passed on, but only to pause again plainly--too plainly--in sight
of all eyes in the hollow square.

The red-moustached man parted company with his companion and went
straight to a counter where lace scarfs and fichus and wonderful
boudoir caps were achieving a brilliant success. Instantly a
fairy-like brunette with cherry lips and a bewitching, turned-up nose
came forward with a sweet meekness that was the subtlest kind of
coquetry. Whatever he had to say was said in a second or two, and the
girl answered as quickly. But she went back to work with a conscious
look which would to any watching woman announce that she considered
the man her property.

"Little pig!" Win said to herself. "She's purring with joy because
Miss Stein saw. (_Do_ pigs purr?) Anyhow I _am_ glad we've made a
success. That must be some comfort! Why, at the Hands it's like a big
theatre with a lot of different stages, where the curtains go up
unexpectedly and give you a glimpse of an act."

But exciting as the plays were, the one in which she herself had a
part began to seem very long drawn out when the first w