"Why, the city is going to widen Two Hundred and Sixty-fourth Street in front of them houses of yours, and you will get damages. Oi! what damages you will get!"
Philip stared blankly at his informant for one hesitating moment; then he dashed off for the nearest subway station.
Half an hour later he sat in the office of Henry D. Feldman and gasped out his story.
"In three quarters of an hour, Mr. Feldman," he cried, "that property will be sold, and, if it is, the feller what buys it will get damages for the street opening and I will get nix."
"This is a fine time to tell me about it, Margolius," Feldman said. "You came in here six weeks ago and asked me to help you out, and I haven't seen you since. The time to do something was six weeks ago. Why didn't you come back to see me before the suit was started?"
"Because I was busy, Mr. Feldman," Margolius replied. "A whole lot of things happened to me about that time. In the first place, the next day after I saw you I got married."
"What!" Feldman exclaimed, "you got married? Well, Margolius, you recovered pretty quickly from that affair with Birdie Goldblatt."
Margolius stared gloomily at his attorney.
"What d'ye mean I recover from it?" he echoed. "I didn't recover from it, Mr. Feldman. That's who I married—Miss Birdie Goldblatt."
Feldman sat back in his chair.