Below him flowed the life of the little town, the men going home from work, the girls chattering and laughing through the dusk on their way from the post-office.

Every figure that passed, black or white, was familiar to him.

Jimmy Reed's little Skye terrier dashed down the street, and a whistle sprang to his lips.
How he loved every living creature in the place! For five years he had been one of them, sharing their interests, part and parcel of the life of the community.

Now he was an outcast, an alien, as much a stranger to friendly faces as the lad who had knelt long ago at the window of a great tenement and had been afraid to be alone.
"I'll have to go away," he thought wistfully.

"They'll not be wanting me here after this." It grew darker and darker in the gloomy room.