How one hid his youth under his coat and hugged it! And how good it was to turn one's back upon all that vaulted cold, to take Hilda's arm and hurry out of the great door and down the steps into the sunlight among the pigeons--to know that the warm and vital thing within him was still there and had not been snatched away to flush Caesar's lean cheek or to feed the veins of some bearded Assyrian king.

They in their day had carried the flaming liquor, but to-day was his! So the song used to run in his head those summer mornings a dozen years ago.

Alexander walked by the place very quietly, as if he were afraid of waking some one.
He crossed Bedford Square and found the number he was looking for.

The house, a comfortable, well-kept place enough, was dark except for the four front windows on the second floor, where a low, even light was burning behind the white muslin sash curtains.

Outside there were window boxes, painted white and full of flowers.