Carrie could see the western sky, still pink with the fading light, but steely blue at the top where it met the darkness.

A long, thin cloud of pink hung in midair, shape like some island in a far-off sea.

Somehow the swaying of some dead branches of trees across the way brought back the picture with which she was familiar when she looked from their front window in December days a home.
She paused and wrung her little hands.
"What's the matter ?" said Drouet.
"Oh, I don't know," she said, her lip trembling.
He sensed something, and slipped his arm over her shoulder, patting her arm.
"Come on," he said gently, "you're all right." She turned to slip on her jacket.
"Better wear that boa about throat to-night." They walked north on Wabash to Adams Street and then west.

The lights in the stores were already shinning out in gushes of golden hue.

The are lights were sputtering overhead, and high up were the lighted window of the tall office buildings.