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Her face was hidden, but the blond curls moved with a nod so slight that only a lover's eye could see it. He seized her disengaged hand. The conductor stuck his head into the car. "Fourteenth Street!" A squad of stout, florid men with butchers' aprons started for the door. The girl arose hastily. "Mamma!" she called, "steh' auf! Es ist Fourteenth Street."
It forgets itself. It says good-bye. A sun gone down. What is it old Carl wrote?... 'The past is a bucket of ashes, a sun gone down ... to-morrow is another day...." The detachment vanished. Streets familiarized themselves. "Ich steh auf den Standpunkt," said the politicians; and the racket of machine-guns offered an obligato.
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