"And were not prejudiced against him in advance? Floor-walkers as a class have often been maligned." Jean reflected carefully. "I can't say no to that," she owned frankly. "A friend had a poor opinion of him and said so before I began work, but I tried not to let that influence me." "But it did?" "A little, perhaps. I admit I've never liked him." For a time the big man under the drop-light trifled absently with a paper-knife. "We'll take this matter up, of course," he said presently. "If we need a housecleaning, we'll have it; but I can't believe that things are radically at fault. No department store in the city is more considerate of its people. We were among the first to close Saturday afternoons in midsummer; we offer liberal inducements for special energy during the holidays; we have provided exceedingly attractive lunch-rooms; we even hope, when trade conditions permit, to introduce a form of profit sharing. What more can we do?" Jean supposed his rhetorical query personal. "You might pay better wages," she suggested. "Then things like this wouldn't happen." For the fraction of a second King Henry wore one of his less amiable expressions. It suggested beheading or long confinement in the Tower. Then, immediately, it was glossed by modernity. "There you trench upon economic grounds," he rejoined heavily. "I wish we might inaugurate a lecture course for our employees, to elucidate the principles which govern a great business. The law of supply and demand, the press of competition, the necessity for costly advertising, these and countless other considerations, which we at the helm appreciate, never enter the shop-girl's head." Jean was overborne by these impressive phrases. They had never entered her head, certainly, and she was not altogether sure why they should. "We only ask a living," she said. "But you shouldn't. We want the girl who asks pin-money, the girl who lives with her family. Have you no family yourself, by the way?" "My mother is living." "Is she dependent upon you in any way?" "No." "Is she able to provide for you?" "Perfectly." "Then why doesn't she?" Jean's eyes snapped. "Because I won't let her." Her listener shrugged. "The modern woman!" he lamented. "But this is beside the question. We pay as others pay. If a girl thinks it insufficient, let her find other work. So far, I uphold Mr. Rose. His further advice--as you report it--is another matter. As I have said, we will take it up." He touched a bell and rose, and Jean followed the elderly servant to the door. The impetus which had brought her here had subsided into great weariness of body and spirit, but she went down the avenue not ill satisfied. She had had her hearing. She had spoken, not for herself alone, but in a measure for others. Moreover, the man's bluff candor seemed an earnest that justice would be done. Precisely what form justice would take, she did not speculate. Near her own door she met Paul on anxious lookout for her.