"That ain't the idee, Abe," Morris broke in; "the idee is that we got to give up doing our work in our
own shop and send it out by a contractor just starting in as a new beginner already—a young feller what you don't know and I don't know, Abe—and all this we got to do just because you want it, Abe. Me, I am nothing here, Abe, and you are everything. You are the dawg and I am the tail. You are the oitermobile and I am the smell, and that's the way it goes."
"Who says that, Mawruss?" Abe interposed. "I didn't say it."
"You didn't say it, Abe," Morris went on, "but you think it just the same, and I'm going to show you differencely. I am content that we move, Abe, only we ain't going to move unless we can find it two lofts for the same rent what we pay it here. And we ain't going to have less room than we got it here neither, Abe, because if we move we're going to do our own business just the same like we do it here, and that's flat."
For the remainder of the day Abe avoided any reference to their impending removal, and it was not until Henochstein entered the show-room the following morning that the discussion was renewed.
"Well, boys," he said in greeting, "I got it a fine loft for you on Nineteenth Street with twicet as much floor space what you got here."
"A loft!" Morris cried.
"A loft," Henochstein repeated.
"One loft?" Morris asked.
"That's what I said," Henochstein replied,