Mighty interesting, I
tell you," and with a cheery wave of the hand to his friend Isaac,
whose eyes had been looking streetward at the precise moment,
Peter pushed me ahead of him up the worn marble steps flanked by
the rust-eaten iron railing which led to the hallway and stairs,
and so on up to his apartment.
It was just the sort of house Peter, of all men in the world,
would have picked out to live in--and he had been here for twenty
years or more. Not only did the estimable Isaac occupy the
basement, but Madame Montini, the dress-maker, had the first floor
back; a real-estate agent made free with the first floor front,
and a very worthy teacher of music, whose piano could be heard at
all hours of the day, and far into the night, was paying rent for
the second, both front and back. Peter's own apartments ran the
whole length of the third floor, immediately under the slanting,
low-ceiled garret, which was inhabited by the good Mrs. McGuffey,
the janitress, who, in addition to her regular duties, took
especial care of Peter's rooms.
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