"I give it up," observed the stranger, passing his
hand over the head and down its side. "I am not
very much on saints--wooden ones, I mean. He seems
a good deal out of place here. Why buy such things at
all, and why sell them? But that, of course, is not your
point of view. I would send it back to the good father,
if I were you, and have him put it behind the altar if
he is ashamed to put it in front. Holy things belong
to holy places. But I am already taking up too much
of your time. Thank you very much for the money.
It comes at an opportune moment. I shall come in
once in a while to see you and, if you are willing, to
talk to you."

"But you don't say nudding about Kitty's room.
Vait till--oh, dere you are, you darlin' girl! You mind
de store, Masie. Now you come vid me and I show
you de finest vomans you never see in your whole
life!"




Chapter III



Kitty Cleary's wide sidewalk, littered with trunks,
and her narrow, choked-up office, its window hung
with theatre bills and chowder-party posters, all of