Ho." Accordingly, after the Madonna had climbed to the street, I asked the boy for the proprietor.
The "dyke-keeper" turned about, as though his interest in me began with my voice.
"Who wants to see him?" said the boy.
For the emergency—if you don't feel there was one, it's my failure to give you the dyke-keeper—I improvised and benefited by borrowing from Klangenburg himself.
"I've come to see him about his complaint on those pineapples," I said.
"What pineapples?" the youth asked.
"I want to see him personally," I replied. "Is he here?"
"Maybe," said the boy and locked the cash register before vanishing rearward. Once he reappeared, evidently to view me for the purpose of checking up on my description; he said nothing but after another minute he came back and told me, "He'll see you day after to-morrow."
"What time?" I said.
"This time will do."
I thanked him, while he unlocked the cash register for the resumption of business.
