oment after she forgot their very existence and never had time to
remember it again.

That third day in Toys was the most appalling she had known of all the
long, wild days at Peter Rolls's since coming in as an extra holiday
hand. Dozens of customers clamoured for her at once. Each female
creature seemed to have as many hands as Briareus, all reaching for
things they wanted, or gesticulating and brandishing money, or
snatching for change. If each distracted girl had had half a dozen
highly trained astral bodies with which to serve these terrible
ladies, it would not have been enough. More ladies would have come.

Yet (Win noticed with wondering admiration) some of the girls, those
most experienced and less easily rattled, did find opportunities to
polish their nails and pat their hair. They would turn as if to find
something "in stock," stoop quickly, taking advantage of the crowd
behind the counters, snatch out of their stockings tiny mirrors and
bags of powder or rouge, and "fix themselves," while their anxious
customers supposed they were diving for a toy. These were the girls
who kept their own perfumed soap and scent bottles in their lockers
and could afford becoming hats, whether or no they had money to buy
new underclothes and stockings when the old ones gave out.

Win, however, had neither experience enough nor desire to find time
for personal matters. She gave her whole soul to her work and wore
that pleasant Christmas smile which floorwalkers wish to see on
salesladies' faces. But her smile was only skin deep. She had never
liked her sister women less--cross, silly, snapping, inconsiderate
things, strutting and pushing about in skins and plumes of animals far
more agreeable and beautiful than themselves! Dangling all over with
poor little heads of dead creatures, just as if they were moving
butcher shops, and apparently without a sense of humour to tell them
what idiots they looked.

Yes, idiots! That was the word. And if they had enough humour to put
on a thumb nail, _could_ they wear the stick-out and stick-up
ornaments on their hats they did wear, to prod each other's eyes? No,
they couldn't! And what with feathers standing straight out behind,
and long corsets down to their knees, they could never lean back
against anything, no matter how tired they were. So, what with tight
dresses and high heels and thin silk stockings and low shoes and
blouses on winter days, no wonder men wouldn't let them have th