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effect her interest would have on his cost price. Then she added: “How
                            much is it?”
                                   “Well,  it’s  really  a  two-hundred-dollar  coat,”  began  Mr
                            Rubinstein  artfully.  Then  noting  a  shadow  over  Hortense’s  face,  he
                            added quickly: ”That sounds like a lot of money, but of course we don’t
                            ask so much for it here. One hundred and fifty is our price. But if that
                            coat was at Jarek’s, that’s what you’d pay for it and more. We don’t have
                            the best location here and we don’t have to pay the high rents. But it’s
                            worth every cent of two hundred.”
                                   “Why,  I  think  that’s  a  terrible  price  to  ask  for  it,  just  awful,”
                            exclaimed Hortense sadly, beginning to remove the coat. She was feeling
                            as if life were depriving her of nearly all that was worth while. “Why, at
                            Biggs and Becks, they have lots of three-quartermink and beaver coats
                            for that much, and classy styles too.”
                                   “Maybe,  maybe.  But  not  that  coat,”  insisted  Mr  Rubinstein
                            stubbornly. “Just look at it again. Look at the collar. You want to say you
                            can find a coat like that up there? If you can, I’ll buy the coat for you and
                            sell it to you again for a hundred dollars. Actually, this is a special coat.
                            It’s  copied  from  one  of  the  smartest  coats  that  was  in  New  York  last
                            summer before the season opened. It has class. You won’t find any coat
                            like this coat.”
                                   “Oh, well, just the same, a hundred and fifty dollars is more than
                            I can pay,” commented Hortense with sorrow, at the same time putting
                            on  her  old  broadcloth  jacket  with  the  fur  collar  and  cuffs,  and  slowly
                            moving towards the door.
                                   “Wait! You like the coat?” wisely observed Mr Rubinstein, after
                            deciding that even a hundred dollars was too much for her purse, unless
                            it  could  be  supplemented  by  some  man’s.  “It’s  really  a  two-hundred-
                            dollar  coat.  I’m    telling  you  that  straight.  Our  regular  price  is  one
                            hundred and fifty. But if you could bring me a hundred and twenty-five
                            dollars, since you want it so much, well, I’ll let you have it for that. And
                            that’s like finding it. A good-looking girl like you must have no trouble
                            in finding a dozen fellows who would be glad to buy the coat and give it
                            to you.”
                                   Hortense was not displeased by the compliment. For some time
                            her mind was thinking about possible persons who, by her charm, might
                            be  persuaded  to  procure  this  coat  for  her.  Charlie  for  example  –  he
                            worked in a cigar store – but she thought that wouldn’t do much for her
                            without getting a good deal in return.
                                   And then there was Robert, another youth. But he was too saving
                            –always talking about his future.


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