"By the way—"
"It is extremely rude and hence illegal," Carpenter glared, "to interrupt anyone who is speaking."
"But I would like," Michael whispered very earnestly, "to get washed. If I might."
The other man frowned. "Let me see. I believe one of the old landmarks was converted into a lavatory. Only thing of suitable dimensions. Anyhow, it was absolutely useless for any other purpose. We have to take a taxi there; it's more than two hundred yards. Custom, you know."
"A taxi? Isn't there one closer?"
"Ah, impatient youth! There aren't too many altogether. The installations are extremely expensive."
They hailed the nearest taxi, which happened to be one of the variety equipped with dancing girls. Fortunately the ride was brief.
Michael gazed at the Empire State Building with interest. It was in a remarkable state of preservation and looked just like the pictures in his history—in his books, except that none of them showed the huge golden sign "Public-Washport" riding on its spire.
