This, then, must be the person whom he had seen spring upon the western platform at the time of the collision between the boats. But, alas! Ah Cum shrugged philosophically. She did not have the power of men. He did not particularly care. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. He raised her to a sitting position. Her impressions of this cardinal ceremony were rich and confused, complicated by a quite transitory passion that awakened no reciprocal fire for a fat curly headed cousin in black velveteen and a lace collar, who assisted as a page. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. “The fact is—I don’t know why—this takes me by surprise.
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