little now, and even laughed, though not very successfully.
Then he said something very wise, for him.

"Listen to me, girl. You'll never get away with that
vampire stuff. Talons are things you have to be born with.
You'll never learn to grab with these." He reached over,
and picked up her left hand lying inertly in her lap, and
brought it up to his lips, and kissed it, glove and all.
"They're built on the open-face pattern--for giving. You
can't fool me. I know."

A year and a half after her coming to Haynes-Cooper Fanny's
department was doing a business of a million a year. The
need had been there. She had merely given it the impetus.
She was working more or less directly with Fenger now, with
an eye on every one of the departments that had to do with
women's clothing, from shoes to hats. Not that she did any
actual buying, or selling in these departments. She still
confined her actual selecting of goods to the infants' wear
section, but she occupied, unofficially, the position of
assistant to the General Merchandise Manager. They worked
well together, she and Fenger, their minds often marching
along without the necessity of a single spoken word. There
was no doubt that Fenger's mind was a marvelous piece of
mechanism. Under it the Haynes-Cooper plant functioned with
the clockwork regularity of a gigantic automaton. System
and Results--these were his twin gods. With his mind
intent on them he failed to see that new gods, born of
spiritual unrest, were being set up in the temples of Big
Business. Their coming had been rumored for many years.