“Meppe ubstairs,” said the woman, eyeing Helen curiously. “Vot you god in de pag, lady?”
To tell the truth this query rather frightened the girl. She did not reply to the question, but started half-blindly for the stairs, clinging to the bag with both hands.
Suddenly a door banged above and a quick and light step began to descend the upper flight. Helen halted and looked expectantly upward. The approaching step was that of a young person.
In a moment a girl appeared, descending the stairs like a young whirlwind. She was a vigorous, red-cheeked girl, with dark complexion, a prominent nose, flashing black eyes, and plump, sturdy arms bared to her dimpled elbows. She saw Helen there in the hall and stopped, questioningly. The old woman said something to the newcomer in what Helen supposed must be Yiddish, and banged shut her own door.
“Whaddeyer want, Miss?” asked the dark girl, coming nearer to Helen and smiling, showing two rows of perfect teeth. “Got lost?”
“I don’t know but what I have,” admitted the girl from the West.
“Chee! You’re a greenie, too; ain’t you?”
“I reckon so,” replied Helen, smiling in return. “At least, I’ve just arrived in town.”
The girl had now opened the door and looked out. “Look at this, now!” she exclaimed. “Did you come in that taxi?”
“Yes,” admitted Helen.