At this juncture Morris appeared at the show-room door and beamed at Mr. Bramson, who looked straight over his head in cold indifference; whereupon Morris found some business to attend to in the rear of the store.

“That’s what I said,” Mr. Bramson replied, “Lapidus & Elenbogen’s; and you would of deserved it.”

“Mr. Bramson,” Abe protested, “did I ever done you something that you should talk that way?”

“Me you never done nothing to, Abe,” said Mr. Bramson, “but to treat a lady what is a lady, Abe, like a dawg, Abe, I must say it I’m surprised.

“I never treated no lady like a dawg, Mr. Bramson,” Abe replied.  “You must be mistaken.”

“Well, maybe it wasn’t you, Abe,” Mr. Bramson went on; “but if it wasn’t you it was your partner there, that Mawruss Perlmutter.  Yesterday I seen him up to the Heatherbloom Inn, Abe, and I assure you, Abe, I was never before in my life in such a high-price place—­coffee and cake, Abe, believe me, one dollar and a quarter.”

He paused to let the information sink in.  “But what could I do?” he asked.  “I was walking through the side entrance of the Prince William Hotel yesterday, Abe, just on my way down to see you, when I seen it a lady sitting on a bench, looking like she would like to cry only for shame for the people.  Well, Abe, I looked again, Abe, and would you believe it, Abe, it was Miss Atkinson, what used to work for me as saleswoman and got a job by The Golden Rule Store, Elmira, as assistant buyer, and is now buyer by Moe Gerschel, The Emporium, Duluth.”

Abe nodded; he knew what was coming.

“So, naturally, I asks her what it is the matter with her, and she says Potash & Perlmutter had an appointment to take her out in an oitermobile at two o’clock, and here it was three o’clock already and they ain’t showed up yet.  Potash & Perlmutter is friends of mine, Miss Atkinson, I says, and I’m sure something must have happened, or otherwise they would not of failed to be here.  So I says for her to ring you up, Abe, and find out.  But she says she would see you first in—­she wouldn’t ring you up for all the oitermobiles in New York.  So I says, well, I says, if you don’t want to ring ’em up I’ll ring ’em up; and she says I should mind my own business.  So then I says, if you wouldn’t ring ’em up and I wouldn’t ring ’em up I’ll do this for you, Miss Atkinson:  You and me will go for an oitermobile ride, I says, and we’ll have just so good a time as if Potash & Perlmutter was paying for it.  And so we did, Abe.  I took Miss Atkinson up to the Heatherbloom Inn, and it costed me thirty dollars, Abe, including a cigar, which I wouldn’t charge you nothing for.”

“Charge me nothing!” Abe cried.  “Of course you wouldn’t charge me nothing.  You wouldn’t charge me nothing, Mr. Bramson, because I wouldn’t pay you nothing.  I didn’t ask you to take Miss Atkinson out in an oitermobile.”