ay evening of Spring, and on those quiet downtown streets he met
couples strolling by. A tall thin lad and a buxom girl went into a cheap
apartment building laughing gaily to themselves, and Roger thought of
Laura. A group of young Italians passed, humming "Trovatore," and it put
him in mind of the time when he had ushered at the opera. Would Laura's
young man be willing to usher? More like him to _tango_ down the aisle!

He reached Washington Square feeling tired but even more restless than
before. He climbed to the top of a motor 'bus, and on the lurching ride
uptown he darkly reflected that times had changed. He thought of the Avenue
he had known, with its long lines of hansom cabs, its dashing broughams and
coupes with jingling harness, livened footmen, everything sprucely
up-to-date. How the horses had added to the town. But they were gone, and
in their place were these great cats, these purring motors, sliding softly
by the 'bus. Roger had swift glimpses down into lighted limousines. In one
a big rich looking chap with a beard had a dressy young woman in his arms.
Lord, how he was hugging her! Laura would have a motor like that, kisses
like that, a life like that! She was the kind to go it hard! Ahead as far
as he could see was a dark rolling torrent of cars, lights gleaming by the
thousand. A hubbub of gay voices, cries and little shrieks of laughter
mingled with the blare of horns. He looked at huge shop windows softly
lighted with displays of bedrooms richly furnished, of gorgeous women's
apparel, silks and lacy filmy stuffs. And to Roger, in his mood of anxious
premonition, these bedroom scenes said plainly,

"O come, all ye faithful wives! Come let us adore him, and deck ourselves
to please his eye, to catch his eye, to hold his eye! For marriage is a
game these days!"

Yes, Laura would be a spender, a spender and a speeder too! How much money
had he, that chap? And damn him, what had he in his past? How Roger hated
the very thought of poking into another man's life! Poking where nobody
wanted him! He felt desperately alone. To-night they were dancing, he
recalled, not at a party in somebody's home, but in some flashy public
place where girls of her kind and fancy women gaily mixed together! How
mixed the whole city was getting, he thought, how mad and strange, gone out
of its mind, this city of his children's lives crowding in upon him!

CHAPTER IV

He breakfasted with Deborah late on Sunday morni