Today, however, the sharp-nosed man had spread his papers out on Finkelstein’s very corner – in fact, no more than fifteen yards from the store. Mr Finkelstein was sitting calmly in his little campchair beside his stand with his back to the three, and he was watching Newman with a peculiarly wide smile.

Newman approached Finkelstein’s stand with his hand reaching into his pocket, and Finkelstein, who usually by this time had risen and folded Newman’s paper ready to take away, only now got up, rather suddenly and seemingly with a thankful and relieved air, and started folding an Eagle for him. As the storekeeper turned to the stand to do this, Newman glanced over to the corner and waved to Fred and called,’ Morning.’ The sharp-nosed little man called back instead of Fred, and he sang, ‘Paper I Buy American. Paper! Buy …!’

Finkelstein was holding his paper out to him now. He looked into the Jew’s tense face and insanely he felt his anger rising. The paper was touching his hand now. In his other hand he had the dime. His whole sense of being cut off seemed to be crackling inside of him. On the curb stood: the three men. Here he stood with the Jew. He knew his face was red, wished he could buy Finkelstein’s paper and then go over to the strange peddler and buy from him too. It was bad not to buy the paper from the Jew now because in the Jew’s eyes he knew he looked intimidated. It was therefore not from a sense of compassion that he said to Finkelstein – as he let his own hand drop empty – ‘Just a minute.’

And then he walked up to the three men and stopped in front of Fred, and smiling in embarrassment, but still angry that he had not been able to refuse the Jew without reddening, he said, ‘What’s going on, Fred?’

Fred glanced past him at Finkelstein and then looked intimately at him. Carlson stood there troubled, a tall gray-haired bank clerk, a very conservative kind of man.

Now with these three Newman knew an onrushing calm. It was as though he had managed to make an advantageous deal with Gargan, as though he were really an able man and belonged among able men who knew just how to conduct their lives.

Fred said, ‘We’re just makin’ sure Billy here gets his rights, that’s all. Morgenthau over there tried to push him off the block.’

As though scandalized, Newman said, ‘That so!’ He wanted Fred to continue talking so intimately with him – Fred and Carlson too.

‘Imagine the nerve of that kike?’ Carlson asked, quietly. He kept quivering as though freezing.

Newman shook his head at the outrage. It would be easier now to tell his mother that he was fired. Somehow because he had done this it would be easier to bear having no place to go tomorrow. He would be coming back each day to a block that he belonged to. Standing there on the corner he felt again like an inhabitant, and seemed quite at ease.