THE HUNGRY GLEAM
sort of way and not in another. Pilgrimaging from door to door and climbing up many staircases gives a man a certain varnish.
The porter asked somewhat suspiciously:
"Who is it you want to see?"
And with simple carelessness and a gentle drawl Moshkin replied:
"I don't really know myself. I have come about an advertisement. I received a letter, but the writer is not indicated. Only the address is given. Who lives there?"
"Miss Engelgardova," answered the porter.
"Engelgargt?" queried Moshkin.
The porter repeated:
"Engelgardova."
Moshkin laughed.
"Russification?"
"Helena Petrovna," answered the porter.
"An old hag?" asked Moshkin doubtfully. The porter grinned.
"No, sir, a young lady. By the front way, please; through the gate on the right."
"I've looked," said Moshkin. "Only the first numbers are there."
"No," said the porter. "Fifty-seven is there, at the bottom."
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