says he, "suppose we make a rinktum-diddy for the folks,
eh?"

"Sounds exciting'," says I. "Do you start by joinin' hands around the
table?"

No, you don't. You get out the electric chafing dish and begin by fryin'
some onions. Then you melt up some cheese, add some canned tomatoes,
and the result is kind of a Spanish Welsh rabbit that's almost as tasty
as it is smelly.

It was while we was messin' around the vest pocket kitchen, everybody
tryin' to help, that we spots this face at the window opposite. It's
sort of a calm, good natured face. You wouldn't call the young lady a
heart-breaker exactly, for her mouth is cut kind of generous and her big
eyes are wide set and serious; but you might guess that she was a decent
sort and more or less sociable. In fact she's starin' across the ten
feet or so of air space watchin' our maneuvers kind of interested and
wistful.

"Who's your neighbor?" asks Vee.

"I'm sure I haven't an idea," says Lucy Lee. "I see her a lot, of
course. She spends as much time in her kitchen as I do, even more.
Usually she seems to be alone."

"Why don't you speak to her some time?" suggests Vee.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," says Lucy Lee. "It--it isn't done, you know. I
tried that twice when I first came, with women I met in the elevator,
and I was promptly snubbed. New Yorkers don't do that sort of thing, I
understand."

"But she's rather a nice looking girl," insists Vee. "And see, she's
half smiling. I'm going to speak to her." Which she does, right off the
bat. "I hope you don't mind the onion perfume?" says Vee.

The strange young lady doesn't slam down the window and go off tossin'
her head, indignant, so she can't be a real New Yorker. Instead she
smiles and shows a couple of cheek dimples. "It smells mighty good,"
says she. "I was just wondering what it could be."

"Won't you come over and find out?" says Vee, smilin' back.

"Yes, do come and join us," puts in Lucy Lee. "I'll open the hall door
for you."

"Why, I--I'd love to if--if I may," says the young lady.

And that's how, half an hour or so later, when all that was left of this
rinktum-diddy trick was some brown smears on five empty plates, we begun
hearin' the story of the face at the window. She's young Mrs. William
Fairfield, and she's been that exactly three months. Before that she had
been Miss Esther Hartley, of Turkey Run, Md., and Kaio Chow, China. Papa
Hartley had been a medical missionary and Esther, after she got