She
made a detour around two or three blocks in order to avoid retracing her
steps down Main Street and slipped into the door of this establishment
as unostentatiously as she could.
She was saved inquiring for the proprietor by the conviction that the
rather dapper-looking gray-haired man who came blinking toward her in a
near-sighted way as she paused in the main aisle, was he. He had a good
deal of manner and was evidently proud of it. But he looked neither weak
nor foolish.
"My name's Rose Stanton," she said as he came up. "I've come to see if I
can get employment in your store."
His manner changed instantly. He came a step closer and stared at her
with a surprise he didn't try to conceal.
"I haven't had any experience as a saleswoman," she went on, "and I know
there's a lot to learn. But I'd work hard and learn as fast as ..."
"Excuse me," he said, "but aren't you a member of that theatrical
company that was here last night?"
The intensity with which he was staring at her made her look away and
her eyes rested on a young man whose strong family likeness to the
proprietor identified him for her as his son; he had come up and was
waiting for a word with his father.
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