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"Winnie Childs The Shop Girl"

Have you worked in any of the big department stores
there--Harrods' or Selfridge's?" He looked, Win thought (clinging to a
straw of hope), as if he were not unwilling to help her.
"No, none. I was a model for Nadine. I'm quick at doing figures---"
"The figures that models _cut_ are more to the point, I guess!" The
cherub Mephistopheles smiled at this joke and did not seem to care
just then that his every extra word kept the procession back an extra
instant. "We're not wanting models at present. But if you've had any
experience as a saleslady--you look all right--well, see here, I'll
try and give you a chance. It's up to you to make good, though. What
money do you want? Write it down."
He indicated one of those forms which Win had seen. She hesitated,
then felt that the blue eyes were watching her keenly. Hesitation was
not the way to succeed in this home of hustle. She remembered that
the red-haired girl, though she must have had experience or she would
not have possessed references, had said something about eight dollars.
"I'll say seven," Win told herself, and wrote accordingly on the
paper.
"We can't pay seven dollars per week to a girl without experience,"
pronounced the superintendent promptly.


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