As he steered
the girl through the crowd he looked at her with interest, and she
would have looked with interest at him could she have done so without
his knowing it. She had vaguely heard that shopwalkers in England
could make or break the salespeople. Probably floorwalkers in America
were the same, or more powerful, because everybody in this free
country who had any power at all seemed to have more than he could
possibly have anywhere else.
This man was extremely handsome she saw in the one quick, veiled
glance which can tell a girl as much as a boy is able to take in with
a long stare. He was tall and dark and clean shaven, with polished
black hair like a jet helmet, and brown eyes. Few princes could hope
to be as well dressed, and if he had been an actor, only to see his
shoulders would have made a matinee girl long to lay her head upon
one. _Why_ wasn't he an actor, then, at many dollars a week, instead
of a floorwalker at a few? It must be that his fairy godmother had
forgotten to endow him with some essential talent.
Seeing that he looked at her sympathetically with his rather sad, dark
eyes, Win ventured with all respect to beg a little enlightenment as
to a two-hour bargain sale.
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