vun minute--come close vunce--I vant to speak to
you."

O'Day, who had been about to give a reason why he
could not "come now," and who had halted in his reply
in order to hunt his pockets for a card on which to write
his address, hearing Kling's last words, withdrew to
the office in search of both paper and pencil.

"Now, see here, Kitty! Dot mans is a vunderful
man--de most VUNDERFUL man I have seen since I been
in 445. You know dem cups and saucers vat I bought
off dot olt vomans who came up from Baltimore? Do
you know dot two of 'em is vorth more as ten dollars?
He find dot out joost as soon as he pick 'em up, and he
find out about my chairs, and vich vas fakes and vich
vas goot. Vot you tink of my givin' him a job takin'
my old cups and my soup tureens and stuff and go sell
'em someveres? I don't got nobody since dot tam fool
of a Svede go avay. Vat you tink?"

"He can have my room--that's what I think! You
heard what I said to him! That's all the answer you'll
get out of me, Otto Kling."

"An' you don't tink dot he'd git avay vid de stuff
und ve haf to hunt up or down Second Avenue in the
pawn-shops to git 'em back?"

"No, I don't!"