Hurry up, John, dear! Hold on--give me the other handle of that--look at
it now, big as a chicken-coop! Them Fifth Avenue ladies will be livin'
in these things if they keep on."
These orders and remarks, fired in rapid succession, were interrupted to
her great annoyance by the driver of the hansom cab, who, impatient at
the delay, had touched his horse lightly with the whip, bringing the
big wheels to a stop in front of the huge trunk which Kitty was
anathematizing.
"Go on wid ye! Drive on, I tell ye!" she cried, opening fire on the
driver.
"Gentleman wants to--"
"Well, I don't care what the gentleman wants. This stuff's got to go
aboard that wagon."
Here the passenger's head was thrust forward.
"Can you--"
"Yes, of course I can, and glad to, no matter what it is--but not this
minute. Don't ye see what I'm up against?"
The hansom was backed its full length, the passenger watching Kitty's
movements with evident amusement.
Two strong hands, one Kitty's and the other John's--mostly
John's--lifted the chicken-coop of a trunk bodily, rested it for an
instant on the forward wheel, and with another "all together" jerk sent
it rolling into the wagon. This completed the loading.
The passenger craned his head again.
"I am staying in Gramercy Park, and want--"
Kitty, who had been stretching her neck to its full length to catch his
words, straightened up. "Ye'll have to get out. I'm no long-distance
telephone, and the racket of them horse-cars is enough to set a body
crazy."
The passenger laughed, stretched out a leg, gathered the other beside
it, and stepped to the sidewalk. "You seem to understand your business,
my good woman," he began, unbuttoning his overcoat to get at the inside
pocket of his cutaway.
"Why shouldn't I? I been at it these twenty years."
She had taken him in now, from his polished silk hat, gray hair, and red
cheeks down to his check trousers, white spats, and well-brushed shoes.
Her own face was by this time wreathed in smiles; she saw the man was a
gentleman who had intended only to be courteous. "Is that what ye came
to tell me?" she cried.
"No, but I would have done so if I had ever watched you work. Oh, here
it is," he continued, drawing out his pocketbook. "I want you to--"
he stopped and looked at her from over the rims of his gold
spectacles--"but I may not have hold of the right person. May I ask if
you belong here?"
Her head went up with a toss, her eyes danci
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