"I'll bet you're a New York girl."
"Why?"
"I can tell them every time—style and all."
"I'll bet you're a New York fellow, too."
"Little New York is good enough for me. I've been over in Paris four months, now, and, believe me, it looked good yesterday to see the old girlie holdin' her lamp over the harbor."
Miss Sternberger ran her hand over the smooth sheen of her dress; her gown was chaste, even stern, in its simplicity—the expensive simplicity that is artful rather than artless.
"That's a neat little model you're wearin'."
"Aw, Mr. Arnheim, what do you know about clothes?"
Mr. Arnheim threw back his head and laughed long and loud. "What do I know about clothes? I only been in the biz for eight years. What I don't know about ladies' wear ain't in the dictionary."
"Well," said Miss Sternberger, "that's so; I did hear you was in the business."