"My name is Andrew Grant."
"Very well."
"What is your rate of board? Mr. Gale will pay it, but I should like to know what it is."
"Five dollars a week for your room. Mr. Warren pays seven, but he has a large room to himself. If you should decide to room with him, I shall charge you five dollars apiece."
"Thank you; I don't think we shall come to any agreement."
She went downstairs, and Andy surveyed his room with interest.
It was certainly small—quite the narrowest room he had ever seen. There was one window from which he had a view of the back yard, rather a forlorn-looking space. There was a cat perched on the high, board fence separating the yard from that of the adjoining house.
Andy liked cats, and called out "Pussy." The cat looked up, and mewed her recognition and acknowledgment of the friendly overture. Then Eva came up with a pitcher of water and a towel.
"Will one do you?" she asked. "The rest are in the wash, and I'll bring you another this evening."
"One will be sufficient for the present."