For there could be no question of the thoroughness of Charley's redemption.

The very cut of his clothes, the very colour of his necktie, proclaimed a triumph, for the prohibition party.
At last they were packed tightly in the touring car, and Charley, after imparting directions with the manner of a man who regards himself as the fount of wisdom, began expounding the noisy gospel of progress to Gabriella.

Mrs.Carr, who had never been active, and was now over seventy, was visibly excited by the suddenness with which she had been whisked from the platform, and while they shot away from the station, she clutched her crape veil despairingly to the sides of her face, and fixed her blank and terrified stare on her son-in-law.

After a whispered conference with Jane, Gabriella discovered that her mother was less afraid of an accident than she was of fresh air.

"She's afraid of neuralgia," whispered Jane, "but the doctor says the air can't possibly do her any harm." In Franklin Street the trees were in full leaf, and the charming vista through which Gabriella looked at the sunset, softened mercifully the impending symbols of the ironic Spirit of Progress.