The shopman looked distressed, either by the dose pressed upon him or by his recent experience--perhaps by both. He was speaking with something of the fluency of his recent “speech,” the while adjusting his delicately-toned tie and brushing from one sleeve a reminder of his fall. “I am Vincent Seff, owner of this establishment. A slight misunderstanding occurred inside, yes. But I have a hope that you good people, also guests at my entertainment, will respect my hospitality enough to withhold its unfortunate _finale_ from your papers.” The press representatives, three women and a lone man, looked dubious at this hypothetical claim. A second man, tilted in a chair against the wall, who was in the act of finishing a creditable sketch of the manikin, lifted to Cabot a companionable grin. “Good, ain’t it?” “Yes, it is. What will you take for it?” “What will I take?” The grin broadened. “Why, a better art job than the one I’ve got.” “Unfortunately I can’t pay that.” “Sorry not to oblige an admirer of my work.” The artist banged down the forelegs of the tilted chair and gathered up his paraphernalia for departure. “If it’s your nice little idea to keep the girl’s picture out of the paper, it wouldn’t help any to withhold this. The camera gang departed on the run some time ago.” Seff, at Mrs. Hutton’s touch on his arm, had turned and seen the addition to their group. He continued in urgent tones: “Of course you must write your stories right, boys and girls. But I do wish you’d go light on this finish. For the sake of a highly valued patron, I should regret to have a certain name figured. Also, it scarcely seems fair to jeopard the chances of an overly impulsive young girl, just at her start of life.” “But her scream, Mr. Seff?” “And the door-smashing?” “Not to mention that lively bout?” The trio of women scribes prodded him, as though satellites of the sport instead of fashion page. The dapper designer plunged. “I admit that there was a small fracas, but it was due entirely to a misunderstanding. It is all patched up now, therefore not worth mentioning. For once I was at fault in my choice of an employee. You will agree, I am sure, that my little attempt at an artistic display would not have carried an evil suggestion to the clean minds for whose pleasure and profit it was planned. I scarcely know how to express myself, friends. Do try to appreciate my position.” He glanced, as if for helpful suggestion, toward Mary Hutton, then went on, evidently planning his defense in its delivery.