“I went up to her as soon as I recognized her, and asked to be allowed to wait on her. I lost once by my hesitation. She seemed much disappointed because I recognized her. I said, ‘I suspect you are a sampler, but I will take the responsibility of supplying you with all the samples from McDavitt’s silk department that you desire.’ Of course I had no right to make such an offer, but I did not think of it at the time. She looked all broken up, and told me she was deeply obliged, but she thought she’d have to quit and go back in Seaton-Baum’s silk department. She said she wished she could get into McDavitt’s, if only we didn’t employ only men clerks. I said I thought McDavitt’s was behind the times in that as well as in many other things, and I had intended to take the matter up with the superintendent. This was true. I asked for her name and address, so that I might notify her if anything came of it. She gave them to me. “She said she wondered how I recognized her when she dressed differently every time, and I said I should remember her face among a million. She said that didn’t prejudice her against me as it would if most men had said it. She shook hands with me when she said good-by. “I will not put her name down here. There are some things I cannot put down even here. And yet why shouldn’t I? I have always tried to be sincere and frank here. Miss Anna Wright. Anna. But doubtless I shall never see her again. Ours is a purely business acquaintance. I fear I shall not be able to change the policy about men clerks. It is an unprogressive policy. How her face would brighten the department! And she knows silks better than most of our men clerks. She has a feeling about them that counts a great deal; she really understands them. My slight acquaintance with her has filled me with the deepest respect. There is a great deal of sincerity about her, but she looks as if her life had not been altogether happy. I do not feel bashful when I talk to her, as I do with most women. This is most strange, considering how I feel toward her. I have a sort of feeling that she trusts me. What would I not give if I were worthy! Thank Heaven, she does not know how I have treated poor Mrs. Benson!” On Friday, April 29, Mr. Francis wrote in the book: “I am inscribing these words in a furnished room that I rented shortly after the store closed this evening. I sent an expressman to Mrs. Benson’s to get my things. Try as I would, reason with my self, all was in vain. I am a coward; I could not go back to Mrs. Benson’s.