"Who knows?" he replied. "Fifty dollars oder a hundred, perhaps."
Aaron nodded; and the next day, when he entered Potash & Perlmutter's place of business, he carried with him his violin and bow in a black leather case. Thus it happened that the strains of Godard's Berceuse saluted Abe as he stepped from the elevator that morning; and without removing his coat he made straight for the cutting room.
"Koosh!" he bellowed. "What are we running here, anyhow, Shellak—a cloak-and-suit house oder a theayter?"
Aaron hastily replaced the instrument in its case.
"I am only showing it to Nathan," he mumbled by way of explanation. "Might he would like to buy it maybe."
"If you want to sell fiddles, Shellak," Abe said, "do it outside business hours. That's all I got to say."
He proceeded at once to the showroom, where Morris was peeling off his overcoat. The latter greeted Abe with a sour nod. "I am sick and tired of it, Abe," he declared. "Everybody is stealing our business."
"What d'ye mean, everybody's stealing our business?" Abe asked.
"Last night I am sitting in the Harlem Winter Garden with Felix Geigermann, and Leon Sammet butts in on us and tells Geigermann he's got a cousin which he could play shello, and Geigermann says that he should come around to the house next Tuesday and play it with him and Rabiner."
Abe shrugged his shoulders.