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84 THE HOUSE THAT SHADOWS BUILT
back again. Zukor and Kohn used habitually to meet him at the old Hotel St. Denis for a good luncheon and a good laugh — Loew was the wit of his circle. Also, from the windows of his apartment, Marcus Loew’s little son Arthur used sometimes to wave at a baby in the Zukor window across the street. Coached by her mother, Mildred Zukor would wave back. . . . These were her first exchanges of courtesy with her future husband.
Then rose another of those crises which have spotted Adolph Zukor’s fortunes. The plan for conquering New York was not new or original. Other firms waited for the verdict of fashion before beginning to buy raw stock, “as needed.” Thereupon, owing to the demand, the price of the favourite fur would shoot upward until it afforded a narrow margin of profit or no profit at all. In New York, as in Chicago, one must guess at the trend six months ahead; must gamble. Adolph Zukor, feeling himself crowded again toward the wall, plunged into one of his spasms of hard, concentrated work. He used to bring raw furs home at night and stitch out designs until Mrs. Zukor drove him to bed.
Eugene Zukor’s definite memories of childhood date from this time. “Our house always smelled of fur,” he says. “And I used to wish that Dad would get into some other business. Even now. I’m physically uncomfortable in a fur shop!”
However, by work, economy, and shrewdness, Kohn & Company pulled without much loss through that