If you don't, you are dead."
Chaikin, too, often let fall, in his hesitating, monosyllabic way,
some observation which I considered of value. Of the purely
commercial side of the industry he knew next to nothing, but then
he could tell me a thing or two concerning the psychology of
popular taste, the forces operating behind the scenes of fashion,
the methods employed by small firms in stealing styles from
larger ones, and other tricks of the trade.
At last I resolved to act. It was the height of the season for winter
orders, and I decided to take time by the forelock
One day when I called at the designer's, and Mrs. Chaikin asked
me for news (alluding to the thousands I was supposed to be
expecting), I said: "Well, I have rented a shop."
"Rented a shop?"
"That's what I did. It's no use missing the season. If a fellow wants
to do something, there is nothing for it but to go to work and do it,
else he is doomed to be a slave all his life."
When I added that the shop was on Division Street her face fell
"But what difference does it make where it is?" I argued, with
studied vehemence.
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