"Ninety-fifth Street--West--Two-hundred-and-eighty-five-and-a-half."
"Good gracious! An' we're only three blocks off there now!"
"But you said," expostulated Claire helplessly, feeling herself
propelled as by the hand of fate through the crowd toward the door. "You
said you live on One-hundred-and-sixteenth Street."
"So I do, my dear, so I do! But I've got some business
to transack with a lady livin' in Ninety-fifth
Street--West--Two-hunderd-an'-eighty-five-an'-a-half. Come along.
'Step lively,' as my friend, _this nice young man out here on the
rear platform_, says."
CHAPTER II
They plodded along the flooded street in silence, Claire following after
Martha Slawson like a small child, almost clutching at her skirts. It
was not easy to keep pace with the long, even strides that covered so
much ground, and Claire fell into a steady pony-trot that made her
breath come short and quick, her heart beat fast. She dimly wondered
what was going to happen, but she did not dare, or care, to ask. It was
comfort enough just to feel this great embodiment of human sympathy and
strength beside her, to know she was no longer alone.
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