wives and daughters, more than one with his neck encircled by paper
ribbons of many hues. The street-cars had stopped, but there were a
number of automobiles filled with masques, singling out their friends on
the pavement and hurling confetti.

But it was not until Stone and his party reached the great central
highway, Market Street, that the scene was characteristic. Here the
windows of the Palace Hotel, and all the other buildings, great and
small, were illuminated and filled with people. And the entire city
would seem to have emptied itself not only into Market Street, but into
those streets on the north side that completed the "all-night district."
The people in the windows wore their gayest attire, and there was often
music as well as light behind them. They threw down confetti by the
bushel on the masses below. And the masses! There was no polite
restraint here. Largely recruited from the immense South of Market
Street district, they were out for a good time, and its inevitable
expression was noise. They were in the best of tempers, but the din was
terrific. They hooted and yelled, and every one of the several thousand
had a tin horn and blew it with all his might. Every undefended ear was
victimized. Isabel pressed one of her own against Stone's shoulder and
covered the other with her hand. But she stared at the crowd with all
the interest of the secluded for the mass. There were painted ladies of
all grades, and hundreds of shop-girls, covered with white paint or
lavender powder, their figures exaggerated with the corset of the
moment, and violent plumage on head and waist, although they had
prudently left their best skirts at home. Many of them were
astonishingly pretty, and no doubt more respectable than they looked.
Mrs. Paula was in her element. She wore her red hat and blouse, waved
her hands to the windows, exulted in the showers of confetti that
descended in response, and shouted into Gwynne's ear that she was
singled out for special attentions. In truth she received more than her
escort relished. Her natural affinity with the class above which she had
risen so high had never been more patent, and kindred spirits looked
from many approving eyes. Suddenly both cheeks were painted black by a
too fraternal hand, and then a man tried to kiss her. This was more than
even Paula could stand, and she flung herself into her husband's arms,
daubing his shirt with black and red. He dropped Isabel and struck out
furi