Finkman, sends me over a man which he is working for years by Senft &
Co. as a designer, I should give him a job. I already got a good
designer, so what could I do?"

"Why didn't you think to send him over to me, Harry?" Morris said.

"How should I know you wanted a designer?" Harry rejoined. "But, anyhow,
maybe it ain't too late yet. After supper I would ring up Mr. Finkman
and I'll let you know."

"Much obliged," Morris said, as he turned the key and entered his own
apartment. He was so far restored to good humour by his conversation
with Harry Baskof that when he bestowed his evening kiss on Minnie he
failed to notice that her eyes were somewhat swollen.

"Yes, Minnie," he said, "that's the way it is when you got good
neighbours."

"Good neighbours!" Minnie said bitterly, and then for the first time
Morris observed her swollen eyelids.

"Why, Minnie _leben_," he exclaimed as he folded her in a second
embrace, "what's the trouble?"

"Don't, Morris," Minnie said almost snappishly, as she wriggled away
from him; "my waist is mussed up enough from working in the kitchen,
without your crushing it."

"Working in the kitchen!" Morris said. "What's the matter? Is Tillie
sick?"