s in
theirs--something like that, maybe, with--"

"Nix on paper flowers for us! I got a china-silk idea from a little
drummer I met up in the country--one nice little fellow! I wonder if you
know him? Simon Leavitt; he says he sold you goods. Simon Leavitt. Know
him?"

"No."

"One nice little fellow!"

Silence.

"I missed you lots, Miss Ruby. When Saturday came I said to mamma: 'How
I miss that girl! Only one month she's been with us, but how I miss that
girl!' Oh--eh, Miss Ruby!"

Miss Cohn adjusted a pair of tissue-paper sleevelets and smoothed her
smooth tan hips as if she would erase them entirely; then she looked up
at him delicately, and for the instant the pink aura of her hair and the
rise and fall of her too high bosom gave her some of the fleshly beauty
of a Flora.

"Like you had time to think of me! I bet the Washeim girl was in every
other day for a pair of--"

"Now, Miss Ruby, you--"

"'Sh! There's some one out front. It's that cashier from Truman's
grocery. You finish unpacking that case, Mr. Ginsburg. I'll wait on her.
I bet she wants tango slippers."

Miss Cohn flitted to the front of the store as rapidly as the span of
her narrow skirt would permit, and Mr. Ginsburg dived deep into the
depths of his wooden case. But in his nostrils, in the creases of his
coat, and in the recesses of his heart was the strong breath of the
Mayflower; and in the phantasmagoria of bonfire-colored hair and
cream-colored skin, and the fragrance of his own emotions, he bent so
dreamily over the packing-case that the blood rushed as if by capillary
attraction to his temples; and when he staggered to an upright posture
large black blotches were doing an elf dance before his eyes.

"Mr. Ginsburg! Oh, Mr. Ginsburg!"

"Yes, Miss Ruby."

From the highest rung of a ladder, parallel with the top row of a wall
of shoe-boxes, Miss Cohn poised like a humming-bird.

"Say, have we got any more of them 4567 French heel, chiffon rosette?"

"Yes, Miss Ruby--right there under the 5678's."

"Sure enough. Never mind coming out; I can find 'em--yes, here they
are."

From her height she smiled down at him, pushed her ladder leftward along
its track, clapped a shoe-box under her arm, and hurried down, her
shoe-buttoner jangling from a pink ribbon at her waist-line. Mr.
Ginsburg delved deeper.

"Mr. Ginsburg!"

"Yes, Miss Ruby."

"Just a moment, please--there's a lady out here wants low-cuts, and I'm
busy with a custome