Jean was puzzled.
"Do they take on everybody with no more ceremony than that?" she asked, as they made their way out. "It seems a slack way of doing things."
Amy laughed gayly.
"Not much! In some stores—most, I guess—the superintendent does the hiring. I had to face the manager of my department. You would have had to see the manager down here, probably, if he wasn't sick. I knew this when I struck Rosey-posy for the place. He took you as a personal favor to me, or that's what he said, for he's rushing me a bit. For my part, I think your heart-breaking eyes did it. You don't seem to realize it, but you're a mighty handsome girl. I didn't half appreciate it when you wore the refuge uniform. Don't blush! You'll get used to it. Trust the men to tell you. Anyhow, you've got your chance and can snap your fingers at Meyer & Schwarzschild."
"I'll tell them to-morrow morning."
"Better wait till to-morrow night after you've drawn your pay," counselled Amy, sagely. "Then you needn't listen to any more back talk than you please."
Jean followed this advice, giving the forewoman notice only when she turned from the cashier's window with her hard-earned wage safe in her grasp.
The Jewess bridled, her fat shoulders quivering.
"Place not good enough?" she queried tartly.
"I've a better one."