“I’ll show you, if I may,” said Win.

She, the outsider, the intruder, suddenly dominated the situation.  The others, even Miss Stein herself, gave way before the Effect in black as it came close to one of the counters and with quick, decided touches began manipulating those blouses, sashes, and ladies’ fancy neckwear which the Queen of England could not sell at a charity bazaar.

A box of steel pins of assorted sizes lay on a cleared corner of the counter which Win had approached.  It had been brought, perhaps, for the pinning of labels onto the newly repriced stock.  Win took a purple sash and draped it round the waistline of a dull-looking, sky-blue blouse.  Quickly the draping was coaxed into shape and firmly held with pins.  Then under the collar was fastened a crimson bow ("ladies’ fancy neckwear!”) which had been hideous in itself, but suddenly became beautiful as a butterfly alighting on a flower.

“My!” exclaimed the anemic girl, and glanced cautiously from under her eyelids to see whether approval or disgust were the popular line to take.

But Miss Stein—­still resentful, and now beginning to be jealous of a green hand’s originality and daring taste—­was not an Oriental for nothing.  She didn’t possess the initiative ability of a designer, but she could appreciate the crashing music of gorgeous colours met together on the right notes.  Love of colour was in her Jewish blood, and she was a shrewd business woman also, animated with too vital a selfishness to let any opportunity of advancement go.  She seized the new girl’s idea at a glance, realized its value and its possible meaning for herself.

“That’s queer, but it’s smart,” she pronounced, and five anxious faces brightened.  “I’d ‘a’ thought o’ that if I hadn’t been so awful worried; my head feels stuffed full o’ wadding.  I don’t seem to have room for two ideas.  Me and you can tell the guyls what to do, and they’ll do it.  See here, as fast as we get those things fixed we’ll hang ’em up on the line and make a show.  Gee! they’ll draw the dames a mile off, just out of curiosity and nothing else.”

“And when we get them we’ll get their money, too,” Win prophesied cheerfully.  “We’ll christen these things Pavlova Russian Sash-Blouses, and say it’s the latest dodge only to pin them together so purchasers can change the drapery to fit their figures.  When we’ve sold all we can finish before ten-thirty we’ll make a point of pinning on drapery and neckties in the customers’ presence to suit their taste.  I can undertake that part, if you like.”

“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.