"I could, but don't want to; you look at things so funny. But, then,
you don't like Browning," replied Miss Meakin.

Mavis was filled with blind rage at the indifference of "Dawes'" to
the necessities of those they engaged; as long as the firm's big
dividend was made, they were careless to what questionable shifts
and expedients their staff was reduced in order to have sufficient
strength to bring to the daily task of profit-earning. She pondered
on the cruelty and injustice of it all in odd moments; she could not
give much thought to the matter, as Christmas was approaching, which
meant that "Dawes'" would be hard at work to cope with the rush of
custom every minute of the working day, and for some time after the
doors were closed to the public. The class of customer had, also,
changed. When Mavis first went to "Dawes'," the people whom she
served were mostly visitors to London who were easily and quickly
satisfied; then had followed the rough and tumble of a remnant sale.
But now, London was filling with those women to whom shopping is at
once an art, a fetish, and a burden. Mavis found it a trying matter
to satisfy the exigent demands of the experienced shopper. She was
now well accustomed to the rudeness of women to those of their own
sex who were less happily placed; but she was not a little surprised
at a type of customer whom she was now frequently called upon to
serve. This was of the male sex; sometimes young; usually, about
forty; often, quite old; it was a smart, well-dressed type, with
insinuating manners and a quiet, deferential air that did not seem
to know what it came to buy or cared what it purchased so long as it
could engage Mavis in a few moments' conversation. She soon got to
know this type at a glance, and gave it short shrift. Others at
"Dawes'" were not so coy. Many of the customers she got to know by