"Is that so?" Morris retorted. "Well, why should we buy it fixtures what H. Rifkin throws out?"
"He don't throw 'em out, Mawruss," Abe said. "He ain't got no more use for 'em, Mawruss. He busted up this morning."
"You can't make me feel bad by telling me that, Abe," Morris rejoined. "A sucker what takes from us a good customer like Henry Feigenbaum should of busted up long since already. But that ain't the point, Abe. If we're going to get it fixtures, we don't want no second-hand articles."
"They ain't no second-hand articles, Mawruss," Abe explained. "They're pretty near brand-new,
and I got a particular reason why we should buy them fixtures, Mawruss."
He paused for some expression of curiosity from his partner, but Mawruss merely pursed his lips and looked bored.
"Yes, Mawruss," Abe went on, "I got it a particular reason why we should buy them fixtures, Mawruss. You see, this here Rifkin got it the loft right upstairs one flight from us, Mawruss, and naturally he's got it lots of out-of-town trade what don't know he's busted yet, Mawruss."
"No?" Morris vouchsafed.
"So these here out-of-town customers comes up to see Rifkin. They gets in the elevator and they says 'Sixth,' see? And the elevator man thinks they says 'Fifth,' and he lets 'em off at our floor because there ain't nobody on the sixth floor. Well, Mawruss, we leave our store door open, and the customer sees Rifkin's fixtures inside, so he walks in and thinks he's in Rifkin's place. Before he finds out he ain't, Mawruss, we sell him a bill of goods ourselves."
Morris stared at Abe in silent contempt.