I said to the hall-boy when he told me. But he said he couldn't help it. And of course he couldn't."
Mr. Tarrant rushes to the tube in the hall, and his voice is heard in the following monologue: "I want to speak to the janitor immediately. Ask him to step to the— Oh, you are! Well, see here, janitor, what's the meaning of this nonsense about the electricity being cut off? . . . Oh, they did. Well, you just tell them, if they come, that they'd better keep out of this apartment. . . . Well, what if he didn't? What in—in time do I care? That's not my affair, is it? They'd better wait and see if I pay mine. . . . Well, good heavens! am I to sit in the dark because somebody else—Well, I should rather think not. . . . Oh, of course, it's not your fault, but mind they don't get up here. . . . Then let 'em settle it with Mr. Reisenberger, and not annoy me. . . . Very well; I wish you would. That's all." He appears again in disgusted triumph: "Well, of all the incompetent, impertinent corporations of robbers in this fair land, I'm betting on the gas company for first place! Mind you don't let anybody in to touch these lights, now, Bess-!"
Mrs. Tarrant, who has lifted the large grip on to the table during his absence, and, having begun to unpack it, fallen a victim to anxiety for her three original charges, and carried the tall green vase to a sheltered corner of the room: "I don't know. I think the paint and paper people are the worst."
Mr. Tarrant, mechanically following her to the corner with the Wagner and the Victory: "What are you going to do now?"
Mrs. Tarrant: "Unpack the glasses so you can take back the bag and get the rest. I don't want to trust those claret-glasses to the men."
She takes out of the bag during the following conversation two dozen delicate gold-trimmed wine-glasses of assorted sizes, each carefully wrapped in tissue-paper. Unwrapping each one, she looks it carefully over, dusts it lightly with the paper, and stands it on the table.
Mr. Tarrant, mournfully: "I think they were very prudent. These are no times for painters to be walking about the streets alone. And they know it. They're likely to be seized half a dozen times on a block, dragged in, and forced to paint at the point of the bayonet."
The bell rings. Mrs. Tarrant goes to the door and admits the Hall-boy, who addresses them: "Mr. Parrant, a tel'phone message foh yuh, sir. I didn't jes ketch the name, but the party says you'll know who he is, an' was it the other book-shelf you meant, 'case he's been sold the oak one. An' you kain call him up ef 'twasnt the other one, but ef 'twas the oak one, you needn't. I mean, you kain. He wasn't jes sure."
Mr. Tarrant, excitedly: "You mean that fool janitor at forty-seventh street has sold my oak book-shelf and kept that old painted thing?"
The Hall-boy: "Yes, sir. Or else the other one. You kain call him up and he knows the party's name he sol' 'em to. He wasn't sure, he says."
Mr. Tarrant: "! ! !"
Mrs. Tarrant: "Still, dear, if he knows his name—"
Mr. Tarrant, starting from the room furiously: "He'll know some more names before I'm through with him."
Mrs. Tarrant: "Why don't you use this telephone?"
Mr. Tarrant, balefully: "Because I wish to be alone when I converse with him. Get along, Sam."
The Hall-boy: "Yes, sir. You kain call him up—he wasn't jest—" They go out.
Mrs. Tarrant returns to her glasses and dusts one or two more. The bell rings. She opens the door, admitting Lena—a plump and stolid Swede—who greets her: "Good morning. Mrs. Tarrant think I come late? My cousin was sick. I yust get back. Mrs. Tarrant has had her lunch?"
Mrs. Tarrant, wearily: "No, Lena. Get me some. Oh, Lena, I'm so glad you've come! Now perhaps we can get something done. I'll have it in here. Open some sardines and make some chocolate. I doubt if Mr. Tarrant will get back, and I can't wait, anyhow, I'm so hungry. I'll have it in here."
Lena: "Yes, Mrs. Tarrant."
Mrs. Tarrant: "And, Lena, if a man should come about the electric lights, he's not to touch them. Don't let him in, or he'll take them away. It's a mistake. The other people didn't pay, and
