There was a pause. Katie raised her eyes and met his own without flinching. He smiled, but he was quite too satisfied with his own charms to notice that the salesgirl was not smiling. "What time do you quit work?" he inquired. "I never quit." She said this as if she were closing a door, but the young man proceeded imperturbably to rattle at the knob. "I thought," he said, "that you might like to eat a little dinner over at the 'York' with me this evening." "Thanks," the girl answered, "but I do all me eatin' with me husband.--Will you, please, be tellin' me what sort of stockin's you want?" The young man grinned. He seemed to enjoy what he took to be her playful repartee. "Look here," he replied, "my wife is away back home, and I'm all alone over at that hotel." He was leaning airily toward her, both hands on the counter. Katie, standing opposite, leaned toward him. She answered his smile, but he could not see that her smile was not of his own sort. "Do you want to buy anything?" she demanded. "Yes," said the customer, meeting her gaze again. "Will you sell?" It was no unusual incident, no more unusual than the coming incident of Mirka's attack upon Hermann, but the girl had reached the end of her endurance, and what followed across that counter was not unlike what was to occur across Ludwig Schleger's bar. Katie opened her firm, pink palm and smacked the young bargain-seeker smartly across the mouth. There was no immediate consequence. The aisle was too crowded to allow any but the nearest employees to witness the blow, and the crowd was too intent upon its own thousand errands to heed what happened before its eyes. One or two salesgirls stood still at their work, petrified by alarm. One or two customers hesitated and chuckled. And then, as the young man with a face of crimson shouldered his way into a hurried oblivion from which he never reappeared, the rush of business sent the clerks whirling about their own tasks and sent the crowd hurrying about its own purposes. But Katie knew that more would follow, and that what would follow would be an interview with Mr. Porter. The shop's system of surveillance missed nothing, and within a half-hour the girl was standing in the dark office where she had first been hired. In his likeness to a Sunday-school superintendent Mr. Porter was shocked and grieved to hear that any young lady in the Lennox store would strike a purchaser. In his likeness to a surgeon he promptly declared that there ought to be no issue short of expulsion. And in his own hidden character--deep in his own abominable character--he was wondering whether he could not turn this incident to the advantage that he had so long sought. "The viper was insultin' me," said Katie. "Are you quite sure of that, Miss Flanagan?" "Sure I'm sure. Do you have to wait for a snake to bite you before you know what he's up to?" "You could have called the floor-walker." "And been fined for me pains, Mr. Porter."