River Street made an angle with that on which the Murchisons lived--half a mile to the corner, and three-quarters the other way.

Drops drove in his face as he strode along against the wind, stilling his unquiet heart, that leaped before him to that brief interview.

As he took the single turning he came into the full blast of the veering, irresolute storm.

The street was solitary and full of the sound of the blown trees, wild and uplifting.

Far down the figure of a woman wavered before the wind across the zone of a blurred lamp-post.