"A failure!" he yelled. "I should say he did make a failure. What a failure he made! Fool! Donkey! The man got away with a hundred thousand dollars and is living like a prince in the old country. And poor Gussie, she loved him, too! She cries night and day."
He stopped to wipe a sympathetic tear.
"She cries pretty easy," Abe said. "She cried when we fired Mannie Gubin, too."
Hahn bristled again.
"You insult me. What?" he cried. "You try to get funny with me. Hey? All right. I fix you. So far what I can help it, never no more do you sell me or Max or anybody what is friends of ours a button. Not a button! Y'understand?"
He wheeled about and the next moment the store door banged with cannon-like percussion. Morris came from behind a rack of raincoats and tiptoed toward Abe.
"Well, Abe," he said, "you put your foot in it that time."
Abe mopped the perspiration from his brow and bit the end off a cigar.
"We done business before we had Philip Hahn for
a customer, Mawruss," he said, "and I guess we'll do it again. Ain't it?"