They separated a couple of blocks from the pier.

Lee was obliged to take an up-town Elevated.
"I suppose you don't go my way ?" he said to Carroll, wistfully.
"No," said Carroll, smiling and shaking the ashes from his cigar.
Both men had smoked all the way across--Carroll's cigars.
"And I tell you they were the real thing," Lee told his admiring wife that night.

"Cost fifteen cents apiece, if they cost a penny; no cheap cigars for him, I can tell you." Carroll said good-morning out of his atmosphere of fragrant smoke, and Lee, with a parting wave of the hand, began his climb of the Elevated stairs.

He cast a backward look at Carroll's broad, gray shoulders swinging up the street.

Even a momentary glimpse was enough to get a strong impression of the superiority of the man among the crowd of ordinary men hastening to their offices.
"I wonder where he is going?
I wonder where his office is ?" Lee said to himself, accelerating his pace a little as the station began to quiver with an approaching train.
What Lee asked himself many another man in Banbridge asked, but no one knew.