Grimm didn't heed. At last
the waiter deposited the sugar on the edge of the fragile saucer, and
moved away as silently as he had come. A newspaper which Mr. Grimm had
placed on the end of the table when he sat down, rattled a little as a
breeze from the open window caught it, then the top sheet slid off and
fell to the floor. Mr. Grimm was still staring out the window.

Slowly the room behind him was thinning of its crowd as the
theater-bound diners went out in twos and threes. The last of these
disappeared finally, and save for Mr. Grimm there were not more than a
dozen persons left in the place. Thus for a few minutes, and then the
swinging doors leading from the street clicked, and a gentleman entered.
He glanced around, as if seeking a seat near a window, then moved along
in Mr. Grimm's direction, between the rows of tables. His gaze lingered
on Mr. Grimm for an instant, and when he came opposite he stooped and
picked up the fallen newspaper sheet.

"Your paper?" he inquired courteously.

Mr. Grimm was still gazing dreamily out of the window.

"I beg pardon," insisted the new-comer pleasantly. He folded the paper
once and replaced it on the table. One hand lingered for just the
fraction of a moment above Mr. Grimm's coffee-cup.

Aroused by the remark, Mr. Grimm glanced around.

"Oh, thank you," he apologized hastily. "I didn't hear you at first.
Thank you."

The new-comer nodded, smiled and passed on, taking a seat two or three
tables down.

Apparently this trifling courtesy had broken the spell of reverie, for
Mr. Grimm squared around to the table again, drew his coffee-cup toward
him, and dropped in the single lump of sugar. He idly stirred it for a
moment, as his eyes turned again toward the open window, then he lifted
the tiny cup and emptied it.

Again he sat motionless for a long time, and thrice the new-comer, only
a few feet away, glanced at him narrowly. And now, it seemed, a peculiar
drowsiness was overtaking Mr. Grimm. Once he caught himself nodding and
raised his head with a jerk. Then he noticed that the arc lights in the
street were wobbling curiously, and he fell to wondering why that
single flame sparkled at the apex of the capitol dome. Things around him
grew hazy, vague, unreal, and then, as if realizing that something was
the matter with him, he came to his feet.

He took one step forward into the space between the tables, reeled,
attempted to steady himself by holding on to a chair,