ng his umbrella.

To the sober mind "unusually charming" would seem a not unworthy
compliment, but the Candy Man, as he resumed his place in the wagon,
smiled scornfully at what he was pleased to consider its grotesque
inadequacy. If he had anything better to offer, the Miser did not stay
to hear it, but with a courteous "good evening" disappeared in his
turn in the mist. An ambulance carried away the injured man, the crowd
dispersed; the remains of the machine were towed away to a near-by
garage. Night fell; the throng grew less, the rain gathered courage and
became a downpour. There would be little doing in the way of business
to-night.

As he made ready for early closing the Candy Man fell to thinking of the
girl whose name was Bentley. Not that the name interested him save as a
means of further identification. It was a phrase used by the Reporter
this morning that occurred to him now as peculiarly applicable to her.
The Girl of All Others! He rolled it as a sweet morsel under his tongue,
undisturbed by the reflection that such descriptive titles are at
present overworked--in dreams one has no need to be original.

Neither did it strike him as incongruous that he should have seen her
first in the grocery kept by Mr. Simms, who catered to the needs of such
as got their own breakfasts, and whose boiled ham was becoming famous,
because it was really done. He went back to the experience, dwelling
with pleasure upon each detail of it, even his annoyance at the grocer's
daughter, who exchanged crochet patterns with the tailor's wife, after
the manner of a French exercise, and ignored him. It was early and
business had not yet begun on the Y.M.C.A. corner; still he could not
wait forever. The grocer himself, who was attending to the wants of a
lean and hungry-looking student, had just handed his rolls and smoked
sausage across the counter, with a cheery "Breakfast is ready, ring the
bell," when the door opened and the Girl of All Others came in.

She was tallish, but not very tall, and somewhat slight. She wore a grey
suit--the same which had suffered this afternoon from contact with the
street, and a soft felt hat of the same colour jammed down anyhow on her
bright hair and pinned with a pinkish quill--or so it looked. The face
beneath the bright hair was---- But at this point in his recollections
the Candy Man all but lost himself in a maze of adjectives and adverbs.
We know, at least, how the long-legged child ran to