So he hurried onward, with quick soft steps.
Once beyond the grove he entered the one and only street.

It was wide, lined with tall poplars, and under each row of trees, inside the foot-path, were ditches where ran the water from Jane Withersteen's spring.
Between the trees twinkled lights of cottage candles, and far down flared bright windows of the village stores.

When Venters got closer to these he saw knots of men standing together in earnest conversation.

The usual lounging on the corners and benches and steps was not in evidence.
Keeping in the shadow Venters went closer and closer until he could hear voices.

But he could not distinguish what was said.