The Rectangle boiled and heaved and cursed and turned its worst side out to the gaze of the city.

Gray had continued his meetings during the week, and the results had been even greater than he had dared to hope.

When Saturday came, it seemed to him that the crisis in his work had been reached.

The Holy Spirit and the Satan of rum seemed to rouse up to a desperate conflict.

The more interest in the meetings, the more ferocity and vileness outside.