The very street seemed to have blossomed with Christmas.
But Livingstone saw nothing of it.

He was filled with anger that his way should be blocked.

The crowds were gay and cheery.

Strangers in sheer good-will clapped each other on the shoulder and exchanged views, confidences and good wishes.

The truck-drivers, usually so surly, drew out of each others' way and shouted words of cheer after their smiling fellows.
The soul of Christmas was abroad on the air.
Livingstone did not even recall what day it was.