“Maybe you could find out in one of them stores on the corner,” he suggested, and Gretel, having thanked the friendly Irishman, turned, and once more walked back to the noisy corner.
There was a small grocery on the corner, and Gretel, who had not been unfamiliar with such places in the old studio days, went in, and put her question to the young man behind the counter.
“Would you please tell me if this house used to be two hundred and seventeen?”—Page [250].
“I am looking for some people who used to live in number two seventeen,” she explained; “their name is Lipheim. I thought perhaps you could tell me where they have moved.”
“Lipheim, Lipheim,” the young man repeated; “I sort of remember the name, but—oh, yes, I know, an old German lady, who talked queer English?”
“Yes, that’s Mrs. Lipheim,” said Gretel, eagerly, “she speaks very broken English. Her son plays the violin—do you know where they live now?”
The man shook his head.
“Couldn’t say,” he said. “The old lady was in here one day just before they began tearing down those houses, and she told me they were going somewhere in the Bronx, but she didn’t leave any address. Wouldn’t you like to sit down for a few minutes? It’s a hot morning, and your bag’s pretty heavy.”
“No, thank you,” said Gretel; “you are very kind, but I’ve got to find Mrs. Lipheim.” And she turned resolutely away.