Mavis thought for a moment before saying:
"Is that quite fair to the man?"
"That's his look-out," came the swift retort.
"I don't fancy the brisket and I don't fancy picking up men. Can't one get on and get in the showroom and earn more money?" asked Mavis.
"One can," replied Miss Meakin, much emphasising the "can."
"How is it done?"
"You ask your friend Miss Allen; she'll tell you all about it."
"She's no friend of mine. Can't you tell me?"
"I could, but don't want to; you look at things so funny. But, then, you don't like Browning," replied Miss Meakin.
Mavis was filled with blind rage at the indifference of "Dawes'" to the necessities of those they engaged; as long as the firm's big dividend was made, they were careless to what questionable shifts and expedients their staff was reduced in order to have sufficient strength to bring to the daily task of profit-earning. She pondered on the cruelty and injustice of it all in odd moments; she could not give much thought to the matter, as Christmas was approaching, which meant that "Dawes'" would be hard at work to cope with the rush of custom every minute of the working day, and for some time after the doors were closed to the public. The class of customer had, also, changed. When Mavis first went to "Dawes'," the people whom she served were mostly visitors to London who were easily and quickly satisfied; then had followed the rough and tumble of a remnant sale. But now, London was filling with those women to whom shopping is at once an art, a fetish, and a burden. Mavis found it a trying matter to satisfy the exigent demands of the experienced shopper. She was now well accustomed to the rudeness of women to those of their own sex who were less happily placed; but she was not a little surprised at a type of customer whom she was now frequently called upon to serve. This was of the male sex; sometimes young; usually, about forty; often, quite old; it was a smart, well-dressed type, with insinuating manners and a quiet, deferential air that did not seem to know what it came to buy or cared what it purchased so long as it could engage Mavis in a few moments' conversation. She soon got to know this type at a glance, and gave it short shrift. Others at "Dawes'" were not so coy. Many of the customers she got to know by sight, owing to their repeated visits. One of these she disliked from the first; later experience of her only intensified this impression. She was a tall, fine woman, well, if a trifle over-dressed; her complexion was a little more aggressive than most of the females who shopped at "Dawes'." Her name was Mrs Stanley; she appeared well known to the girls for whom Bella the servant declared she was in the habit of praying. From the first, Mrs Stanley was attracted by Mavis, into whose past life she made sympathetic and tactful inquiries. Directly she learned that Mavis was an orphan, Mrs Stanley redoubled her efforts to win the girl's confidence. But it was all of no use; Mavis turned a deaf ear to all Mrs Stanley's insinuations that a girl of her striking appearance was thrown away in a shop: it was as much as Mavis could do to be coldly civil to her. Even when Mrs Stanley gave up the girl as a bad job, the latter was always possessed by an uneasy sensation whenever she was near, although Mavis might not have set eyes on her.