"And rush up those printed lawns. There was two in this morning, sniffing around for spring dimities."
"Any cotton goods? Next month this time, you'll be paying an advance of four cents on percales."
"Stocked."
"Can't tempt you with them wash silks, Mrs. C.? Neatest little article on the market to-day."
"No demand. They finger it up, and then buy the cotton stuffs. Every time I forget my trade hacks rock instead of clips bonds for its spending-money, I get stung."
"This here wash silk, Mrs. C., would—"
"Send me up a dress-pattern off this coral-pink sample for Selene."
"This here dark mulberry, Mrs. C., would suit you something immense."
"That'll be about all."
He flopped shut his book, snapping a rubber band about it and inserting it in an inner coat pocket.