“Well, anyhow, Psyche didn’t ask questions, and I won’t,” she said to herself.  “The kind ants came and told her things:  maybe the sardine will come to me.”

Looking almost preternaturally intelligent and pleased with life, Win accepted the key and check book, and learned with a shock that, as one of Peter Rolls’s hands, she was No. 2884.

CHAPTER IX

THE TEST OF CHARACTER

The sardine’s ears must have been sharp, for although the lion tamer was between her and Win (like a thick chunk of ham in a thin sandwich), she had heard something of the conversation at the superintendent’s window.

“Try the basement bargain counters for your dress; you’ll get it cheaper,” she flung after the tall Effect in a shrill whisper as the newly engaged hand flashed by.

There wasn’t a second, or even half a second to lose, yet Win slackened her pace to say “Thank you.  I do hope we shall meet again.”

Even the lion tamer threw her a look, though already he had taken his turn at the window; but Win did not see the admiring glance.  She was flying down the stairs she had come up so slowly, and did not pause for breath until she was in the basement.  There it was so crowded and so hot, though the store had been open to customers not quite an hour, that there seemed little air to breathe, even had there been time.

Win could see no means of ventilation in the immense room, which was brightly and crudely lit by pulsing white globes of electricity.  There were no partitions to divide one department from another, and it seemed as if samples of every article in the world were being sold on these rows upon rows of heaped-up tables.

Taking her for a customer, a floorwalker saved the bewildered girl from wasting more than a minute of her valuable time.  The thermometer of his manner fell a degree when he learned that she was an employee; nevertheless, he directed her to the bargain counter where black dress skirts were being sold.  There was another nearby which offered black silk and satin blouses.  The man asked if she had been told that extra hands, if on probation, must give money down for anything above the first week’s wage, and looked impressed when the tall girl answered that she preferred to pay cash for the whole.

“Princess, queen!” he murmured sotto voce, and Win might have had the privilege of exchanging a smile with him on the strength of the joke, but thought it might be wiser not to have heard.

Luckily black skirts and blouses were not the craze of the moment.  Women were besieging a beehive of corsets and a hotbed of petticoats, reduced (so said huge red letters overhead) to one third of their original price.  In less than five minutes Win had secured a costume with the right measurements, and for the two portions of which it consisted, had paid exactly one week’s salary.