"I am going to change my lodging," said Griggs.
The cobbler looked up, resting his dingy fists upon the bench on each side of the shoe, his awl in one hand, the other half encased in a leathern sheath, black with age.
"After so many years!" he exclaimed. "The world will also come to an end. I expected that it would. Now where will you take lodging?"
"Where I can find one. I want a little apartment—"
"It seems that your affairs go better," observed the old man, scrutinizing the other's face with his one eye.
"No. No better. That is the trouble. I want a little apartment, and I do not want to pay for it till the end of the first month."
"Then wait till the end of the month before you move to it, Signore."
"That is impossible."
"Then there is a female," said the cobbler, without the slightest hesitation. "I understand. Why did you not say so?"
Griggs hesitated. The man's guess had taken him by surprise. He reflected that it could make no difference whether the old cobbler knew of Gloria's coming or not.