"Surely there was left behind the address of this place," said Anna,
with small confidence of this in her own heart.

"Hi 'eard the lawst word said," said M'riar, with conviction, "an'
hall yer farther told th' geezer was that 'e was goin' to quit."

"But, he would not possibly be so lacking in his courtesy! He--"

Just then the flute-player returned and Anna asked him, boldly, but
with a studied air of carelessness, about the matter. It was the first
time in her whole life that she had ever tried to hide her real
emotions from her father.

"Leave our address for Herr Vanderlyn?" said Kreutzer, who had been
waiting for the question and had schooled himself to answer it without
revealing the real facts. "Of course. Of course. Why not?" It was the
first time he had ever actually lied to Anna. Things, thus, were in a
bad way at the start in the new quarters.

M'riar, after the first day there, did the marketing. The streets,
transformed into deep, narrow cañons by the towering buildings
bordering them, swarming with the poor of every nationality on earth,
every block made into a most fascinating market by the push-cart
vendors with their varied wares, had, from the start, enthralled her.
She was uncannily acute at bargaining. Soon more than one red-headed
Jew had learned, in self-defense, to take out the stick which held up
one end of his cart, and move along, at sight of her. Too often she
had been the symbol of financial loss. Her "Hi sye!" and "My heye!"
became the keen delight of German maidens back of counters over which
cheap delicatessen was distributed.