wished for a dog or a cat even, but the idea of such a disturbing
element in his parental home seemed too preposterous for serious
contemplation. In fact, so foreign was that idea to the home atmosphere,
that Keith went through the rest of his life envying other people's pets
without ever giving earnest thought to the acquisition of one
for himself.

Just as the parental attitude toward the nearest neighbours suggested a
kindly but unsentimental tolerance of inferiors, so it became
unmistakably tinged with a slightly jealous but unprotesting submission
to superiors whenever the lower floors were reached. A bachelor
official of some kind lived on the floor immediately below, with no one
but his housekeeper to share his spacious apartment. As deputy landlord,
Keith's father had to see this tenant like all the rest, but of social
intercourse there was none, while on the other hand, Keith's mother kept
up a gossiping acquaintance with the housekeeper. As far as Keith
himself was concerned, there was nothing more awe-inspiring than a
chance meeting on the stairs with the monocle, side-whiskers, precise
manners and doled-out civility of Mr. Bureau-Chief Broström. The
distance was so immense that even aspirations were precluded on the part
of the boy. He could imagine being king, but not a duly appointed
government official with a salary enabling him to occupy half a dozen
rooms practically by himself.

Of course, there were rumours afloat about a more intimate relationship
between the bureau chief and his fairly good-looking housekeeper, who
nominally had for her own that part of the flat which faced the
courtyard, and these rumours did not escape the boy's keen ears. While
their true inwardness was incomprehensible to him, they made him look
wonderingly at the housekeeper whenever he met her, and when he accepted