He had asked, that very evening, what she was going to do when forced to move.

Phinney could not tell him.

Had he gone to find out for himself?
Was the mountain at last coming to Mohammed?
For some minutes Simeon remained where he was, thinking and surmising.
Then he, too, turned and walked cautiously up the Boulevard.

He passed the Williams mansion, its library windows ablaze.

He passed the twenty-five room "cottage" of the gentleman from Chicago.