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.
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