But Von Gerhard did not signify by look or
word that he had seen it, as he stood looking up at me,
one strong white hand resting on the broad baluster.
CHAPTER XVI
JUNE MOONLIGHT, AND A NEW BOARDINGHOUSE
There was a week in which to scurry about for a new home.
The days scampered by, tripping over one another in their
haste. My sleeping hours were haunted by nightmares of
landladies and impossible boarding-house bedrooms.
Columns of "To Let, Furnished or Unfurnished" ads filed,
advanced, and retreated before my dizzy eyes. My time
after office hours was spent in climbing dim stairways,
interviewing unenthusiastic females in kimonos, and
peering into ugly bedrooms papered with sprawly and
impossible patterns and filled with the odors of
dead-and-gone dinners. I found one room less impossible
than the rest, only to be told that the preference was to
be given to a man who had "looked" the day before.
"I d'ruther take gents only," explained the ample
person who carried the keys to the mansion. "Gents goes
early in the morning and comes in late at night, and
that's all you ever see of 'em, half the time. I've
tried ladies, an' they get me wild, always yellin' for
hot water to wash their hair, or pastin' handkerchiefs
up on the mirr'r or wantin' to butt into the kitchen to
press this or that.
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