"We live down there. You see that house in the middle of the block, the
little old one between the two big ones?"
The man did not feel sure.
"Well, Mister, you see the statue of Washington and Lafayette?"
The man was certain he saw Washington and Lafayette.
"Well, from there you follow my finger along the row of houses till you
come to the littlest, oldest, dingiest one. You see it now, don't you?
We live up under the roof."
"What is the number?"
"It isn't any number. It's half a number. We live in the half that isn't
numbered; the other half gets the number."
"And you take your music lessons in one half?"
"Why, yes, Mister. Why not?"
"On a piano?"
"Why, yes, Mister; on _my_ piano."
"Oh, you have a piano, have you?"
"There isn't any sound in about half the keys. Granny says the time has
come to rent a better one. She has gone over to the art school to-day to
pose to get the money."
A chill of silence fell between the talkers, the one looking up and the
other looking down. The man's next question was put in a more guarded
tone:
"Does your mother pose as a model?"
"No, Mister, she doesn't pose as a model. She's posing as herself. She
said I must have a teacher. Mister, were _you_ ever poor?"
The man looked the boy over from head to foot.
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