So she gave him a number on Clark Street, adding, “There’s no need to give you my address, because Marija knows it.” And Jurgis set out, without further ado.

He found a large brownstone house of aristocratic appearance, and rang the basement bell. A young colored girl came to the door, opening it about an inch, and gazing at him suspiciously.

“What do you want?” she demanded.

“Does Marija Berczynskas live here?” he inquired.

“I dunno,” said the girl. “What you want wid her?”

“I want to see her,” said he; “she’s a relative of mine.”

The girl hesitated a moment. Then she opened the door and said, “Come in.” Jurgis came and stood in the hall, and she continued: “I’ll go see. What’s yo’ name?”