H. R. walked on, a marked man, high in the estimation of the clerks because he had not bought a sixty-eight-thousand-dollar emerald.
Don't you wonder how they do it? What is it? Intuition? Genius?
A floor-walker who had taken in H. R.'s introduction of himself to Valiquet's bowed deferentially to H. R. and blamed his memory for not remembering the name. He was certain he knew the gentleman well.
H. R. nodded and asked: "I wish to have a bronze statuette designed and cast for me. Which department, please?"
"Up-stairs, Mr.—er— Second floor, sir. Mr. Gwathmey is in charge, and—"
"Oh, Gwathmey!" H. R. was obviously much relieved.
"Yes, sir. He's still with us, sir. Elevator on the left."
"Thank you," said H. R., and the man smiled gratefully.
You don't have to buy to be treated politely in New York. The mere suspicion of the power of purchase is enough. It is thus that the principle "Politeness pays" has been established among stock-brokers and jewelers.
H. R. was directed to the head of the department, to whom he said, with a sort of boyish eagerness, "Mr. Gwathmey, I'm very much interested in the Movement, as you probably know, and I wish my little society to have a very artistic emblem."