“I wonder if it’s draped in the back,” she said to herself, and picked it up.  It was draped in the back—­bewitchingly.  She held it at arm’s length, turning it this way and that.  Then, as though obeying some powerful force she could not resist, Julia plunged her arms into the satin of the sleeves and brought the great soft revers up about her throat.  The great, gorgeous, shimmering thing completely hid her grubby little black gown.  She stepped to the mirror and stood surveying herself in a sort of ecstasy.  Her cheeks glowed rose-pink against the dark fur, as she had known they would.  Her lovely little head, with its coils of black hair, rose flowerlike from the clinging garment.  She was still standing there, lips parted, eyes wide with delight, when the door opened and closed—­and Venner, of two-twenty-three, strode into the room.

“You little beauty!” exclaimed Two-twenty-three.

Julia had wheeled about.  She stood staring at him, eyes and lips wide with fright now.  One hand clutched the fur at her breast.

“Why, what—­” she gasped.

Two-twenty-three laughed.

“I knew I’d find you here.  I made an excuse to come up.  Old Nutcracker Face in the hall thinks I went to my own room.”  He took two quick steps forward.  “You raving little Cinderella beauty, you!”—­And he gathered Julia, coat and all, into his arms.

“Let me go!” panted Julia, fighting with all the strength of her young arms.  “Let me go!”

“You’ll have coats like this,” Two-twenty-three was saying in her ear—­“a dozen of them!  And dresses too; and laces and furs!  You’ll be ten times the beauty you are now!  And that’s saying something.  Listen!  You meet me to-morrow—­”

There came a ring—­sudden and startling—­from the telephone on the wall near the door.  The man uttered something and turned.  Julia pushed him away, loosened the coat with fingers that shook and dropped it to the floor.  It lay in a shimmering circle about the tired feet in their worn, cracked boots.  And one foot was raised suddenly and kicked the silken garment into a heap.

The telephone bell sounded again.  Venner, of two-twenty-three, plunged his hand into his pocket, took out something and pressed it in Julia’s palm, shutting her fingers over it.  Julia did not need to open them and look to see—­she knew by the feel of the crumpled paper, stiff and crackling.  He was making for the door, with some last instructions that she did not hear, before she spoke.  The telephone bell had stopped its insistent ringing.

Julia raised her arm and hurled at him with all her might the yellow-backed paper he had thrust in her hand.

“I’ll—­I’ll get my man to whip you for this!” she panted.  “Jo’ll pull those eyelashes of yours out and use ’em for couplings.  You miserable little—­”

The outside door opened again, striking Two-twenty-three squarely in the back.  He crumpled up against the wall with an oath.