She was doing that and paying her rent out of fifteen.
“I don’t see what you do with all your money,” she answered.
At this point she stepped out of the train, and he followed her. She went down the stairs to 166 the street, and he continued to follow. She was on her way to the delicatessen store to buy her provisions for the night and Sunday. Apparently it was his intention to go there with her. At the door of the little shop she stopped.
“I’m going in here,” she informed him, as if that concluded the interview.
He merely nodded and opened the door for her. She was beginning to be worried. At this rate there was no knowing but what he might follow her right home.
“I’m going to buy my provisions for to-morrow,” she further informed him.
“I suppose I must get something too,” he answered. “Can’t I buy it here?”
“It’s a public place,” she admitted.
“Then come on.”
So they entered together, and Hans greeted them both with a smile, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. But Miss Winthrop herself was decidedly embarrassed. This seemed a very intimate business to be sharing with a man. On the other hand, she did not propose to have her plans put out by a man. So she ordered half a pound of butter and a jar of 167 milk and some cheese and some cold roast and potato salad for that night and a lamb chop for Sunday, and one or two other little things, the whole coming to eighty-five cents.