"I take it all back, Mr. Hepp."
"Very well, Manley," said Hepp, nodding and walking away.
"Do I get my job back, Mr. Hepp?"
"No!" cried Hepp, who was not at all forgiving.
Paul lingered by the door for another word. He had made up his mind to have this job. He felt that he must have it. And with matters so, with the scales tilted against him, he looked at the stairs and saw descending the gray-haired gentleman whom he had dismissed so cavalierly from the One Hundred and Twenty-fifth Street store the day before. By a cruel stroke of fortune, the customer was still seeking the shoes which Paul had denied him, and now he had come here to ruin Paul's slim chance. He would recognize Paul, complain to Hepp, and Paul would be finished.
Paul scowled at him as he entered. The customer looked at him.
With sudden recklessness Paul dismissed his scowl, put on an urbane smile, and stepped forward.
"Good afternoon, sir!" he said, chafing his hands together.
"Want a pair of shoes," grumbled the customer. "And for heaven's sake, hurry up!"