The hours filled themselves with, "...it looks nice on your foot...this is a cute style.... would you care to see some handbags?...yes, this is genuine leather...be happy to...be back with you in a moment, I'll just...no, I don't care for...high instep...thank you...thank you." After every customer who bought shoes from Mr. Ethon had decided which shoe they would buy, they waited for a minute or two while Mr. Ethon disappeared to the back room, each time returning with a smile to ask, "Would you care to wear the shoes, Ma'am? They match the outfit you're wearing very well." As the sales multiplied, Mr. Ethon was silently and gradually experiencing a mounting anxiety. His head turned toward the glass swinging doors. Automatically, repetitiously his head faced the glass door. He would try not to look in the direction only to forget and turn again, the door like a magnet to his eyes. At the desk he had just finished writing up a sales slip. He saw a lady coming toward the door. "Yes, he thought, "She's the one who bought the black patents. "Mr. Ethon prepared himself. There was a moment of doubt as he turned and walked toward the back room feeling conscious about his walk, trying not to let the sudden energy affect the way he carried his body to the back room. He stopped and peered out. The lady now talked to Mr. Horne He said something. She took a shoe from the box Mr. Horne looked at it, the sales slip was now in his hand. She sat down. Mr. Horne was coming with his arms at his side. "Ethon." Ethon waited a moment before answering. He stood hidden on the other side of a long mosaic of shoes, "Yes?" he said as casually as he could and emerged from the end of the shelf. 6 "There's a lady waiting for you. See if you can exchange her patent leathers. The patents cracked on one of them." Mr. Hornes hand stuck out holding Ethons sales slip. Ethon took it. "Oh yes,..I know...I'll take care of it." Mr. Home looked at him tilting his head. "What do you mean? You knew those patents were cracked?" "OH no, I didn't mean that. I'll see right to it. "He hurried out thinking Mr. Horne had looked right at him without noticing. He ran his tongue over his upper lip to make sure the mustach really no longer existed. The lady smiled as he approached her. She smiled while he made his apology and reassured her it was a fault with the individual shoe. He found her a pair the same style in her size and another satisfied customer left. Mr. Ethon waited on two more customers. He was replacing some shoes back in the wall when he heard a distinct word from a female voice, "...ankles." Ethon stood holding the shoe half way in it's place in the wall. He did not turn around as he distinctly heard her repeat, "Do I? Do I look like I have fat ankles?" Ethon looked around. Apparently the generous volume in which the question had been asked made some of the ladies being waited on turn toward the counter where now Mr. Home stood looking perplexed and swaying his head, doubtlessly saying they did not look fat to him. "I've never, never in my life been so...." Mr. Ethon measured his steps once again to the back room from where he could still hear the commotion. Mr. Home took all that the lady managed to squeeze in one breath. His first attempts 7