still with that wonderful, beautiful look in her eyes. She
stopped at the tenement with the vacant store. The owner, old
man Schulte, was sweeping the sidewalk. He had an income of
fifteen thousand a year; but he held that he needed exercise,
that sweeping was good exercise, and that it was stupid for a
man, simply because he was rich, to stop taking exercise or to
take it only in some form which had no useful side.

``Good morning,'' said Hilda. ``What rent do you ask for this
store?''

``Sixty dollars a month,'' answered the old man, continuing his
sweeping. ``Taxes are up, but rents are down.''

``Not with you, I guess. Otto Heilig and I are going to get
married and open a delicatessen. But sixty dollars a month is
too much. Good morning.'' And she went on.

Schulte leaned on his broom. ``What's your hurry?'' he called.
``You can't get as good a location as this.''

Hilda turned, but seemed to be listening from politeness rather
than from interest.

``We can't pay more than forty,'' she answered, starting on her
way again.

``I might let you have it for fifty,'' Schulte called after her,
``if you didn't want any fixing up.''