But in spite of this ignorance, we received our visitors courteously, a salesman going forward to meet all newcomers and conducting them to the row of reproduced Louis Seize cane-bottomed chairs placed for their convenience. Then it would be, "Bridget, bring that Khorassan—3246, you know, that fine specimen." And Bridget would know, and call the Finn to help him lay it out. Or it would be, "Brogan, can you find the Meshed that came in yesterday—2947? I think madam would like to see it." On this Denis and I would haul out the big carpet, stretch it at the lady’s feet, listen to comments which, as Denis put it, had the value of a milliner’s criticism of the make of a "floyin’-machine," and eventually carry it back to the pile whence we had taken it. I may say here that for customers we had little respect, except from the point of view of their purchasing power.
"Did ye ever see wan o’ thim that could tell a Sehna knot from a Giordes?" Denis asked, scornfully. "Did ye ever see wan o’ thim that knowed which rug had a woolen warp and which a cotton, or which rug ’d wear, or which ’d all go up in flock? If a woman was to boy a shimmy that ’ll be in rags before it’s been six toimes to the wash with as little sinse as she’ll boy a rug that ought to last for a hunderd years her husband ’d be in jail for dit."
But for me, customers had one predominant interest. Among them there might be some one I could recognize, or some one who would recognize me. As to the last, I had one fear and many hopes. My one fear was that Mildred Averill or Lulu Averill might one day wander in; but as time went on and they didn’t, I ceased to dread the mischance. As it also proved in the end it was the same way with my hopes. No one turned up whom I could hail as an acquaintance; no one ever glanced at me with an old friend’s curiosity.
So I settled down to the routine which, though I didn’t know it then, was the mental rest that, according to Doctor Scattlethwaite, I needed for my recovery. The days were so much alike that I could no more differentiate between them than can a man in prison. On eighteen dollars a week I contrived to live with that humble satisfaction of humble needs which I learned to be all that a man requires. Little by little I accommodated myself to the outlook of my surroundings, and if I never thought exactly like my companions I found myself able to listen to their views complacently. With all three of my more important co-workers—Denis, Bridget, and the Finn—my relations were cordial, a fact due largely to their courteous respect for my private history, into which none of them ever pried. Like Lydia, Drinkwater, and every one else, they took it for granted that there was something I wanted to hide, and allowed me to hide it.