"
"Thank you very much," said Winifred. "It's good of you to tell me
things. I won't sit down, since you advise me not. But it is hard,
standing up so long, especially after such a rush as we've had, isn't
it?"
"Oh, if you think _this_ is hard!" echoed the plump girl, Miss Jones.
(Win noticed that the saleswomen called each other by name, though
officially they were numbers.) "You ain't bin three hours yet. Wait
and see how you feel to-night when ten o'clock comes."
"Ten o'clock!" gasped Win. "I thought we closed at six."
"We're supposed to shut up then, but folks won't go these busy weeks.
They can't be chased out. And _we_ have to stay hours after they
_have_ gone, putting away stock and--oh, shucks of things. Little do
the swell dames care what happens to _us_ once they're outside the
doors. I guess they think we cease to exist the minute they don't need
us to wait on them."
"I've always heard that rich American women took such an interest in
the working--I mean, in us, who work," Win hastily amended.
"Oh, when they're old or sick of their diamonds and their automobiles
they think it'll be some spree to come and stir us guyls up to strike
against our wrongs.
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