their very atmosphere might have been imported.
The many that prefer restaurant life even to the excellent cooking to be
found in the average home, give their highest preference to the legacy
of the Spaniard; they eat hot sauces and Chile peppers with every dish;
and _tamales_ are sold on the street corners. This is enough to make the
San Franciscan an exotic, and it contributes in a great measure to his
fatal content. These young men had no real knowledge of the world, but
they had their own world, and were by no means provincial in the
accepted sense. But the majority were satisfied to coruscate to an ever
applauding audience--for a few years; with money easily got and
delightfully spent; to regard Life as a game, not as a business.
Afterwards the rut, the friendly pocket--nowhere so open as in San
Francisco--a job now and then, more than one way of forgetting that in
times gone by a fellow was one of those "coming men" the wanton heedless
city turns out with the same profusion that gorges her markets and
flaunts her sun for eight months of the year.

To Gwynne they seemed like some primitive race flourishing before its
time. He no longer argued with them, for he had the disadvantage of
being a scholar, and it interfered with his tolerance of fads on the
rampage; but they saddened him, made him feel almost elderly--and
abominably healthy. To-night, although some of the complexions of these
young men were green, and others red, they had been brilliant without
undue hilarity. They intended to get very drunk later on--if only as a
compliment to the New Year--but they were far too accomplished for
precipitancy. Stone, alone, refilled his glass so often that Gwynne
announced abruptly that they were missing the fun in the street, and
Paula promptly took possession of his arm. Stone followed, rumbling
disapproval, with Isabel. This arrangement was not to Gwynne's taste,
but he had developed subtlety in such matters and bided his time.

Kearney Street from Telegraph Hill to Market Street, a mile or more, was
a blaze of light, and crowded with people. It was a very orderly throng,
for it was composed of the respectable element of the city, and if they
had laid dignity aside for the moment, they were not distractingly
noisy. All were throwing confetti, and many had tin horns. Isabel saw
the Hofers, arm in arm, tooting vigorously. Half of society was there;
and many staid and strenuous business men were promenading with their