"Now that," Mabel said, "is what I wanted to talk about." She spoke quickly, with clarity—as if she had a speech memorized, and was delivering it for an audience. She punctuated her sentences with wispy motions of her long-nailed fingers.  "I've been wondering to myself just what kind of man you are. And I've concluded that you're a pretty poor man."  When Jurgen's smile suddenly dripped away she stopped and closed her eyes theatrically.  "Oh, that was unfortunately phrased. I mean... you're not a wealthy man." 

 Jurgen sat up straight, and Mabel laughed—then set her glass down on the table.  "It takes no Sherlock Holmes," she continued, "to see that. Why, you've been in here nearly every evening coming on six weeks—and in all that time, I don't believe I've seen you in any clothes but the rags you have on now. You must wash 'em, cause you don't smell like my grandpa's barnyard—but I'd guess you don't have any other clothes." 

 Jurgen felt himself redden, and looked down, swirling the bourbon in his glass until it ran up along the edge, almost flowing over the rim. He should have packed a much larger wardrobe, and left most of his music behind. 

 "I'm right, aren't I?" 

 "Al once told me you read voraciously." 

 Mabel tossed her head and laughed.  "Not in those words, I expect. But he's right. And Sherlock Holmes is one of my favorites." 

 "Well," he answered slowly, "I must admit I'm rather between full-time engagements at this time...and my wardrobe is minimal at the moment... I do own a suit, and a top hat..." 

 "So I've been asking myself," she interrupted, "how you live, and where you live. I've seen you on street-corners a few times, too. Maybe that's all you do—play your viola—I know well enough it's not just a 'fiddle'. So, where are you living now?"  She hung her wrist limply. "Are you on the street?" 

 "I'm presently lodging at the Charleston." 

 "Hew!" she exclaimed, waving her fingers.  "That place? Nobody of any worth lives at the Charleston. It's full of winos and whores." 

 "It's inexpensive," Jurgen replied.  "The decor leaves much to be desired. But I'm afraid that I'll have to be moving along to even cheaper lodgings by the new year." 

 "That bad?" 

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