She was longing desperately for somebody to love her; and though she could not in decency have accepted, after the way she had treated him, she wished that Thorpe would ask her to have supper with him that night.  The Westlake pig, she knew, was going to Dorlon’s for a pan roast with Horrocks, for the creature had told all the girls who were sure to run with it to her, Dora Stein.  Thorpe would have been a faded flag to flaunt in the face of the enemy—­a floorwalker, to one who had mashed a department manager!  Still it would have been comforting to know that she still had attractions for some one, and at least she would have liked the chance to refuse an invitation.

Thorpe, on his part, would joyfully have asked her, for he could not quite “unlove” the beautiful face he had once adored, though he knew now exactly what a fierce spirit lived behind it.  He was well aware of his own weakness and was humble enough to confuse with it the kindness of heart which permitted such treatment as he had received.

No girl, not even Dora Stein herself, would dare risk offending any other of the floorwalkers, men able to break a saleswoman if they “got a down” on her.  But Dora knew only too well that he would not demean himself to take revenge on her or any one.  And probably she believed that he would not punish or even “call her down” for injustice to a newcomer.

Thorpe was miserable that night, for he had missed few incidents of the day in Dora’s neighbourhood.  He recognized a “live wire” when he saw one, and he did see that 2884 had “stuff” in her.  She deserved to be praised, and encouragement was all that she needed to turn her into a valuable saleswoman, one who might become a “real winner” some day.  He could help her by speaking a few kind words, but Miss Stein would think them spoken on purpose to spite her, and that wouldn’t do 2884 much good if she stayed in the blouse department.  Also he could help her by mentioning in the right quarter her generalship in the matter of the “Pavlovas” instead of letting Dora take the credit.  But if he did the girl any sort of justice he would be harming Miss Stein.

“I don’t know what to do!  I guess I shall have to leave the thing to Providence—­and the devil take the hindmost!” he thought gloomily.

It seemed to Win, as she went out at last, a week since she had come in by the same door.  It was like a play she had seen, where, in the second act, the people who had been young in the first were middle-aged when the curtain next rose; and in the third they were old, all in the course of a few hours.  But a year or two seemed to drop from her shoulders when she caught sight of Miss Kirk waiting for her in the street.  Beside Miss Kirk, to the surprise of 2884, towered the lion tamer.

“Well, I thought you’d never come!” was the greeting of Sadie.  “But all’s well that ends well.  And Mr. Teddy Lion here wants to take us some place for a little supper.”