Begin."
Ed Meyers, still standing, clutched his derby tightly and began.
"She's a looker, Emma is. And smooth! As the top of your desk. But
she's getting careless. Now a decent, hard-working, straight girl like
Miss Hattie Stitch, of Kiser & Bloch's, River Falls, won't buy of her.
You'll find you don't sell that firm. And they buy big, too. Why, last
summer I had it from the clerk of the hotel in that town that she ran
around all day with a woman named LeHaye--Blanche LeHaye, of an
aggregation of bum burlesquers called the Sam Levin Crackerjack
Belles. And say, for a whole month there, she had a tough young kid
traveling with her that she called her son. Oh, she's queering your
line, all right. The days are past when it used to be a signal for a
loud, merry laugh if you mentioned you were selling goods on the road.
It's a fine art, and a science these days, and the name of T. A. Buck
has always stood for--"
Downstairs a trim, well-dressed, attractive woman stepped into the
elevator and smiled radiantly upon the elevator man, who had smiled
first.
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