human stuff. Did you know that?"

"Yes."

"Want a job?"

"N-no."

His knowing eye missed no detail of the suit, the hat, the
gloves, the shoes.

"What's your salary now?"

"Ten thousand."

"Satisfied?"

"No."

"You've hit the heart of that parade. I don't know whether
you could do that every day, or not. But if you struck
twelve half the time, it would be enough. When you want a
job, come back."

"Thanks," said Fanny quietly. And held out her hand.

She returned in the subway. It was a Bronx train, full of
sagging faces, lusterless eyes, grizzled beards; of heavy,
black-eyed girls in soiled white shoes; of stoop-shouldered
men, poring over newspapers in Hebrew script; of smells and