"So you're comin' here to live?" she said, sociably.
"Yes, Eva."
"I hope you don't have fits, like Mr. Warren."
"I don't think I ever had one yet," answered Andy, with a smile.
"I'm glad of that. I'm afraid of gentlemen that have fits."
Eva went downstairs, and Andy proceeded to make his ablutions. It was a dusty day, and the water was refreshing.
After he had washed his face and hands he opened his gripsack and took out his brush and comb, which he placed on a tiny bureau in one corner of the room. It contained two drawers, and in one of them he put away the contents of the valise.
By this time it was half-past ten, and he put on his hat and went downstairs. He went out into the street, and after a moment of indecision walked to Broadway. He thought he could not do better than to walk down this wonderful thoroughfare, of which he had heard so much.
It did occur to him that he might report at the jewelry store, but he would see enough of that hereafter and he preferred to take a little walk about the city.
Andy used his eyes to good advantage. He looked in at the shop windows, and watched the human tide that swept by him.