“Good morning, miss,” he said cheerfully. “You’re out early today.”
“Good morning,” Peggy called back. “Not a very nice day, is it?”
“Not for some,” the blind man replied. “But it’s a grand day for you.”
Peggy stopped in her tracks and stared at him. “What do you mean?” she asked.
The newspaper dealer’s smile broadened. “Your audition this morning.” He chuckled at Peggy’s obvious astonishment, even though he couldn’t see her face. “Word gets around,” he assured her. “After all, you’ve passed my stand nearly every morning for months now. I like to know my customers. Good luck. We’re all pulling for you.”
“Who—” Peggy started to say, but he waved her on.
“You don’t have much time,” he told her. “But don’t be too surprised. You’ve got more friends in New York than you think.”
Peggy said good-by and moved on, reflecting that New York wasn’t such a big place after all. People said it was cold and impersonal, but maybe it wasn’t as bad as they insisted.
“Good luck. We’re all pulling for you,” the blind newsdealer said.