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The cheaper place turned out to be a dreary fourth-floor walkup, one-room apartment on the Lower East Side. From her room, through the paper-thin walls, Tracy could hear her neighbors screaming at one another in foreign languages. The windows and doors of the small stores that lined the streets were heavily barred,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych],[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and Tracy could understand why. The neighborhood seemed to be populated by drunks,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], prostitutes, and bag ladies.
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I can stand it. I won't be here long,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Tracy assured herself.
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Tracy took a deep breath. "I have a problem," she said. She explained as Mrs. Murphy sat listening quietly, and when Tracy was finished, Mrs. Murphy said flatly, "You can forget about looking for a computer job."
"But you said---"
"Companies are jumpy these days about computer crimes. They're not gonna hire anybody with a record."
"But I need a job. I---"
"There are other kinds of jobs. Have you thought about working as a saleslady?"
Tracy remembered her experience at the department store. She could not bear to go through that again. "Is there anything else?"

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