Page:Christopher Morley--Where the blue begins.djvu/103

Rh He had drawn his salary that evening, and his first thought was, Well, at any rate I've earned enough to pay for the clothes. He had been there exactly four weeks. Quite calmly, he lifted his feet out of the tub and began to towel them daintily. The meticulous way he dried between his toes was infuriating to the superintendent.

“Have you any children?” Gissing asked, mildly.

“What's that to you?” snapped the other.

“I'll sell you this bathtub for a quarter. Take it home to them. They probably need it.”

“You get out of here!” cried the angry official.

“You'd be surprised,” said Gissing, “how children thrive when they're bathed regularly. Believe me, I know.”

He packed his formal clothes in a neat bundle, left the bathtub behind, surrendered his locker key, and walked toward the employees' door, escorted by his bristling superior. As they passed through the empty aisles, scene of his brief triumph, he could not help gazing a little sadly. True merchant to the last, a thought struck him. He scribbled a note on the back of a sales slip and left it at Miss Whippet's post by the stocking counter. It said:—