After a pause, “You got anybody to advise you?” said the man.
“No.”
The rusty woman looked at the vague man, and the vague man looked at Van Camp’s Soup.
“Where are you at?” he said presently.
Hildegarde stared.
He pushed back his black slouch hat and sadly mopped his yellow-gray brow. It was warm to-day. The crowd at Baumgarten’s made it seem warmer still. “Which hotel?” asked Mr. Blumpitty.
“I’m not at any hotel. I am at Mr. Jacob Dorn’s.”
“Jacob L. Dorn’s?”
“Oh, do you know him?”
“No, I don’t know him, but I know his firm.” It was plain the name had impressed both Blumpittys.