things at you and made you conspicuous. She continued to sift the contents of her bag through her fingers even after she had found the key. Maybe one of the children would miss and the rope would be quiet while the jumper became a turner.
"Wait a minute. Let the lady pass."
The rope flopped helplessly on the ground and Lillian stepped across it, smiling sunnily at the children as she did so. She wasn't sure which child had pleaded her case, but she was grateful to them all.
In the foyer Lillian replaced the key in her purse and glanced into the third letter box in the lower row. It was marked with a slip of cardboard which bore two names. One was Cory. The other was Friedrich. Lillian herself had printed the names. She had torn the cover off a pack of paper matches and had taken care to print the names plainly. She wondered why she had put Friedrich above Cory.
There was no mail. There rarely was any mail. Of course on the first of the month there was the electric bill. The gas bills were delivered by gas company employees.
As she walked up the stairs Lillian cast disgusted glances at a chewing-gum wrapper, a banana skin, and several nondescript fragments of paper which lay about. Of course the janitress couldn't stand guard in the hall all day long, but still there was certainly some sort of provision that could be made for this sort of thing. The halls really were a disgrace. One would think that Rose Friedrich would have noticed that before renting the apartment.
