When Maggie Brady came in she looked weary and jaded, and the paint on
her face made her more conspicuous than ever.
During a lull in the business Faith heard her speaking to Miss Fairbanks
in a tone that showed plainly that she was very confidential with the
buyer.
"Jim Denton took me to the theatre last night and we had an elegant
supper after. It cost him a pile, I tell you, for I just laid myself out
to be expensive. It's the only way I have of getting square with the
firm. What the old man makes his son blows in; that's right, ain't it,
Fairbanks?" she winked at the woman as she finished.
"Sure," replied Miss Fairbanks in a lower tone; "but look out for him,
Mag, there's a new star in the heavens. I wouldn't trust Jim Denton
around the corner, and you wouldn't either if you were wiser."
"Oh, I'm not afraid of that, if that's what you mean," said the girl.
She nodded her head in Faith's direction, but did not deign to look at
her.
"She's a beauty all right," was the buyer's reply, "and she doesn't have
to improve on nature a little bit, eh, Maggie?"
"She won't keep that color long in this store," sneered Miss Brady.
"She'll fade like all the rest of us, and it won't take long either."
"Miss Fairbanks," gasped Miss Jennings from behind the counter, "I can't
stand up any longer.
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