Women found excuses to call on each other, talking over what had happened, as they sat near their parlour windows, shaking their heads at each other, peering out between the lace curtains.

The people on the cable-cars and the pedestrians looked again and again at the crepe on the bell handle, and the curtained windows, craning their necks backward when they had passed.
The neighbours' children collected in little groups on the sidewalk near the house, looking and pointing, drawn close together, talking in low tones.

At last even a policeman appeared, walking deliberately, casting the shadow of his huge stomach upon the fence that was about the vacant lot.

He frowned upon the children, ordering them away.

But suddenly he discovered an acquaintance, the driver of an express-wagon that had just driven up with an enormous anchor of violets.