e street, and another before
the entrance. He went up the stairs. His landlady came to meet him.

"Mr. Suvaroff," she began at once, "have you not heard what has
happened? The man in the next room to you was found this
morning--_dead_!"

He did not pretend to be surprised. "Well," he announced, brutally, "at
least we shall have no more of dreadful music! How did he kill himself?"

The woman gave way to his advance with a movement of flattering
confusion. "The knife was in his side," she answered. "In his
side--toward the back."

"Ah, then he was murdered!"

"Yes."

He was mounting the second flight of stairs when his landlady again
halted him. "Mr. Suvaroff," she ventured, "I hope you will not be angry!
But his mother came early this morning. All day she has sat in your
room, weeping. I cannot persuade her to go away. What am I to do?"

Suvaroff glared at her for a moment. "It is nothing!" he announced, as
he passed on, shrugging.

The door of his room was open; he went in. A gnarled old woman sat on
the edge of the bed; a female consoler was on either side. At the sight
of Suvaroff the mourner rose and stood trembling before him, rolling a
gaudy handkerchief into a moist bundle.

"My good woman," said Suvaroff, kindly, "do not stand; sit down."

"Kind gentleman!" the old woman began. "Kind gentleman--"

She got no further because of her tears. The other women rose and sat
her down again. She began to moan. Suvaroff, awkward and disturbed,
stood as men do in such situations.

Finally the old woman found her voice. "Kind gentleman," she said, "I am
a poor old woman, and my son--Ah! I was washing his socks when they came
after me.... You see what has happened! He was a good son. Once a week
he came to me and brought me five dollars. Now--What am I to do, my kind
gentleman?"

Suvaroff said nothing.

She swayed back and forth, and spoke again. "Only last week he said:
'There is a man who lodges next me who plays music.' Yes, my son was
fond of you because of that. He said: 'I have seen him only once. He
plays music all day and night, so that he may have money enough to live
on. When I hear him coming up the stairs I take down my accordion and
begin to play. All day and night he plays for others. So I think, Now it
will be nice to give him some pleasure. So I take down my accordion and
play for _him_!'... Yes, yes! He was like that all his life. He was a
good son. Now what am I to do?"

A shudder passed o