Mr. Arnheim shook hands and settled himself in a chair beside the desk. "You know you can always depend upon me, madame, to look you up the minnit I get back. Don't I always give you first choice?"
Mrs. Schlimberg weighed a crystal paper-weight up and down in her pudgy, ringed hands. "None of your fancy prices for me this season, Arnheim. There's too many good things lyin' loose. That's why I got my openin' a month sooner. I got a designer came in special off her vacation with some good things."
Mr. Arnheim winked. "Schlim, I got some models here to show you that you can't beat. When you see 'em you'll pay any price."
"I can't pay your fancy prices no more. I paid you too much for that plush fad last winter, and it never was a go."
Mr. Arnheim chuckled. "When you see a couple of the designs I brought over this trip you'll be willin' to pay me twice as much as for the hobble. Come on—own up, Schlim; you can't beat my styles. Why, you can copy them for your import-room and make ninety per cent, on any one of 'em!"
"They won't pay the prices, I tell you. Some of my best customers have gone over to other houses for the cheaper goods."
"You can't put over domestic stuff on your trade, Schlim. You might as well admit it. You gotta sting your class of trade in order to have 'em appreciate you."
"Now, just to show you that I know what I'm talking about, Arnheim, I got the best lines of new models for this season I've had since I'm in business—every one of them domestics too. I'm puttin' some made-in-America models in the import-room to-day that will open your eyes."
Mr. Arnheim laughed and opened his portfolio. "I'll show you these till my trunks come up," he said.
"Just a minute, Arnheim. I want to show you some stuff—Miss
Sternberger!" Mrs. Schlimberg raised her voice slightly, "Miss
Sternberger!"