While David was still staring at this money, there was another knock. He opened the door upon the Mayor of Avenue A. The Mayor walked in and lowered himself into the one rocking-chair.
"Well, I see you've landed with Rogers," he called out, as though David were a block away. "You'll find Rogers quiet, but the real thing. He's got a heart that really beats."
He looked about. "Just usin' this one room, I see. What're you doin' with the others?"
"Nothing."
"Why don't you rent 'em?"
"D'you think I can?"
"Can? You can't help it. Why, only yesterday a family was askin' me to help 'em find a cheap flat. Le's see how much them four rooms would be worth. I pay thirty a month up on the second floor; this might fetch sixteen or eighteen. You've got the best room; take that off and say—well, say twelve a month. How'd that suit you?"
"If I could only get it!"
The Mayor drew out a fat wallet. "That fixes my family up, then. Here's your twelve."
"You're in earnest?" David asked, slowly.