“Oh, I say—by the way—William—” called Arthur, as the watchman was proceeding up the street.
“Yassir?” queried William, facing about.
Arthur ran down the stoop and joined his interlocutor at the foot.
“I say, William, I see No. 46 has found a tenant. You don’t happen to know who it is?”
“Yes,” responded William; “moved in Thursday—old party of the name of Hart.”
“Old party? Indeed! Then I suppose he has a daughter—eh? It was the daughter who was singing a little while ago?”
“I dunno if she’s got a darter. Party’s a woman. I hain’t seen no darter. Mebbe it was the lady herself.”
“Oh, no; that’s not possible.—Hart, do you say the name is?”
“Mrs. G. Hart.”
“What does G. stand for?”