But her first department-store article did not come out. It had been "killed" in favor of a receipt for preserving the gloss on finger-nails. A copy-reader, being wise in newspaper business and anxious to gain favor, had run to the advertising manager with the proof. The advertising manager had rushed angrily to Mr. Brace. Brace had gone to Mr. Karner. Mr. Karner had thrown it into the wastepaper basket and suggested the finger-nail story.
When Yetta called up Mr. Brace about it, she found him inclined to treat the matter as a joke. "After all," he laughed, "you know there are limits. You can't take a man's money for advertisement on one page and spit in his eye on another. There is plenty of work for your scalping knife among people who don't advertise."
Yetta began to understand. It was her first introduction to serious temptation. In six months newspaper work had got into her blood. Besides the pleasant thrill of it, there was the usefulness. There were hundreds of girls who depended on her largely. It was hard to give up such an audience. And it was pleasant work—well-paid. It was a wonderful thing for a sweat-shop girl to have climbed so high. Should she go on "playing the game"? For a while she tried to shift the responsibility to other shoulders. What would people think? She knew what Mabel and Isadore would think. Mabel would tell her to compromise. Isadore the opposite. What would Walter think? And then it suddenly came to her clearly that it didn't matter at all what anybody else thought. She had to decide it by herself. Whatever happened, she would always have to live with herself. Self-respect was more important than the regard of even the closest friend. They were asking her to do just what she had emphatically told Cowan she would never do. She put on her hat and went to Mr. Karner's office.
"This matter does not concern me," he said. "I employ Mr. Brace to edit the magazine page, and I trust his ability and judgment. If he considered it unwise to run your article, that ends it."
"Mr. Karner, if The Star is afraid to touch department stores, I'll resign."
He spun round in his chair.
"Afraid? That's strong language."
"It's very easy to prove it unjustified," she said quickly.
He looked at her sternly for a few minutes, taking her measure. It was his ability at this process which had enabled him to build up his paper from a third-rater to its present position.
"Miss Rayefsky, you want a flat answer. We're in business to make money. We won't attack our heaviest advertisers."