“No wonder! The fall of that great booby of a Vabre was certain. His wife spent everything he earned. Besides, we are more than five hundred yards away, whilst Vabre was almost next door to The Paradise.” Gaujean, the silk manufacturer, then chimed in, and their voices fell again. He accused the big establishments of ruining French manufacture; three or four laid down the law, reigning like masters over the market; and he gave it as his opinion that the only way of fighting them was to favour the small traders; above all, those who dealt in special classes of goods, to whom the future belonged. Therefore he offered Robineau plenty of credit. “See how you have been treated at The Paradise,” said he. “No notice taken of your long service. You had the promise of the first-hand's place long ago, when Bouthemont, an outsider without any claim, came in and got it at once.” Robineau was still smarting under this injustice. However, he hesitated to start on his own account, explaining that the money came from his wife, a legacy of sixty thousand francs she had just inherited, and he was full of scruples regarding this sum, saying that he would rather cut off his right hand than compromise her money in a doubtful affair. “No,” said he, “I haven't made up my mind; give me time to think over it. We'll have another talk about it.” “As you like,” replied Vinçard, concealing his disappointment under a smiling countenance. “It's to my interest not to sell; and were it not for my rheumatics----” And returning to the middle of the shop, he asked: “What can I do for you, Monsieur Baudu?” The draper, who had been listening with one ear, introduced Denise, told him as much as he thought necessary of her story, adding that she had two years' country experience. “And as I have heard you are wanting a good saleswoman----” Vinçard affected to be awfully sorry. “What an unfortunate thing!” said he. “I have, indeed, been looking for a saleswoman all the week; but I've just engaged one--not two hours ago.” A silence ensued. Denise seemed disheartened. Robineau, who was looking at her with interest, probably inspired with pity by her poor appearance, ventured to say: “I know they're wanting a young person at our place, in the ready-made dress department.” Baudu could not help crying out fervently: “At your place? Never!” Then he stopped, embarrassed. Denise had turned very red; she would never dare enter that great place, and yet the idea of being there filled her with pride. “Why not?” asked Robineau, surprised. “It would be a good opening for the young lady. I advise her to go and see Madame Aurélie, the first-hand, to-morrow. The worst that can happen to her is not to be accepted.”