"
"You do think you're _some_ girl, don't you?" was Miss Stein's only
comment. But Win saw that she meant to accept the scheme and "work it
for all it was worth."
A light of hope and the excitement of battle shone down the dull flame
of anger in her eyes. There was no gleam of gratitude there, and if
Win had wanted it she would have been disappointed; but just at this
moment she wanted nothing on earth save to push that beautiful Jewess
to a triumph over "_him and her_" and to make the two-hour sale of
Pavlova Russian Sash-Blouses a frantic, furious success.
CHAPTER X
PETER ROLLS'S LITTLE WAYS
Something strange had happened in the ground-floor bargain square. The
wasps' nest had suddenly turned into a beehive. The buzz of rage had
lulled to the hum of industry. Fred Thorpe, the "aisle manager," was
blessed with the tact which only some secret sympathy or great natural
kindness can put into a man; and it had kept him at a distance from
Miss Stein that morning. He knew the inner history of that particular
bargain sale, and there were reasons why he should understand with
peculiar acuteness the humiliation she had been doomed to endure.
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