Just think,
Father, he wants to buy a _chicken_!"
With a gay little laugh in which was shrewd knowledge of the
unthinkableness of certain indulgences, the child slipped one arm
through her father's and another through Van Landing's, and with a
happy skip led the way down the poorly lighted street. A solid mass of
dreary-looking houses, with fronts unrelieved by a distinguishing
feature, stretched as far as the eye could see, and when a few blocks
had been walked it was with a sense of relief that a corner was
turned and Van Landing found himself at the foot of a flight of steps
up which the child bounded and beckoned him to follow.
The house was like the others, one of a long row, and dull and dark
and dingy, but from its basement came a baby's wailing, while from the
floor above, as the hall was entered, could be heard the rapid click
of a sewing-machine. Four flights of steps were mounted; then
Carmencita took the key from her father's pocket and opened the door.
"This is our suite," she said, and courtesied low. "Please strike a
match, if you have one, Mr. Van.
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