"Oh," he said, looking up in surprise. "There's a crib?"
"Naturally," I said, "we should want this nursery for the baby."
This did not seem to strike him as altogether unreasonable, but he was puzzled nevertheless.
"You see," he explained, "the people who were here before you had a music-box."
When a renting-agent discerns signs of disappointment in a prospective tenant he immediately calls his attention to the shower. The agent's face as he ushered me into the bath-room and pointed to the shower was irradiated by a smile of ecstatic beatitude. He reminded me of Mme. Nazimova when she waits for the Master Builder to tumble from the church tower.
"Does the shower work?" I asked.
"Why, of course it does," he said.
"That is very interesting," I said. "Most of them either drip or else the hot water comes down all at once. I don't suppose you have to keep away to one side and thrust your finger forward timidly before you venture under the shower?"
"Not at all," he said. "This has splendid pressure. Just turn it on for yourself."
I did as I was told, and after he had finished drying himself with his handkerchief he asked me whether this wasn't one of the best showers I had ever come across. I agreed, and he then told me that the very latest ideas in modern bath-room construction had been utilised by the architect. As for the people who had just moved out, they were so delighted with the shower that they spent the greater part of the day in the tub, often doing their reading there.