Morris' jaw dropped and he wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead.
"But who did you sell goods for?" Abe insisted.
Marks Pasinsky bent down and placed his hand on Abe's shoulder.
"B. Gans," he whispered.
"Let me in on this, too, Abe," Morris exclaimed.
"He says he worked for B. Gans," Abe replied.
"That's an A Number One concern, Abe," Morris said.
"A A Number One," Pasinsky corrected. "B. Gans ain't got a garment in his entire line that retails for less than a hundred dollars."
"Well, we ain't so tony as all that," Morris commented. "We got it one or two garments, Mr. Pasinsky—just one or two, y'understand—which retails for ninety-nine dollars and ninety-eight cents, y'understand. So, naturally, you couldn't expect to sell the same class of trade for us as you sold it for B. Gans."
"Naturally," Pasinsky agreed loftily, "but when a salesman is a salesman, Mr. Perlmutter, he ain't content to sell a line of goods which sells themselves, so to speak, like B. Gans' line. He wants to handle such a line like you got it, Mr. Perlmutter, which is got to be pushed and pushed good and plenty. If I wouldn't handle an inferior line oncet in a while, Mr. Perlmutter, I would quick get out of practice."