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She looked out of the window; a level row of grey houses frowned at her across the street. She looked upwards; a grey pall of cloud swung over the rooftops. The interior of the room appeared to her even less inviting than the street. It was the afternoon of the first drawing-room, and a debutante was exhibiting herself to her friends.
When night came, a string of rowboats each carrying a huge torch kept watch along the bar to guard against surprise from the sea. On that Friday night the harbor was swept by storm. But in spite of torrents of rain East Battery and the rooftops were thronged. "The wind was inshore and the booming was startlingly distinct."
As they wander through the streets, the news of their arrival precedes them and women, excited by Krishna's name, throng the rooftops, balconies and windows. 'Some ran off in the middle of their dinner: others while bathing and others while engaged in plaiting their hair.
Large spaced drops plumbed a gleaming hypotenuse between the rooftops and the streets. They paused before a basement restaurant. "It looks dirty," said Lockwood, "but let's go in." Here they ordered dinner. During their eating the noise of thunder sounded and the splash of the storm drifted in through the dusty basement windows.
No; it seems that the window was left open, and that it communicates with the rooftops. There the murderer had entered, and by that way escaped; for they found the leads of the gutter dabbled with blood. The next house was uninhabited, easy enough to get in there, and lie perdu till night." "Hum!" said the lawyer.
As he roared over the rooftops, Stan leaned back and laughed. He would have to fly low because the high-level dual supercharger was not working. All he had done was adjust the regular carburization system. He had not taken chances on his work on the high-altitude machinery. There were no Nazi planes in the air. There had been no alert.
On a day like this, he says, on a day like this, when the wind plays cello music across the rooftops.... I think about things. The town is like a fireless, dimly lighted room. Yesterday the windows sparkled with sunlight. To-day they stare like little coffin tops. On a day like this, he says, on this sort of a day I walk along smoking a pipe and wonder what I was excited about yesterday.
The bird was the only true artist there, it sang as the poet sings, to obey its nature and vent its heart. Trill-trill-trillela-la-la-trill-trill, went the song, louder, gayer than usual; for there was a gleam of April sunshine struggling over the rooftops. The song at length roused up Gabriel; he turned his chair round, laid his head on one side, listened, and looked curiously at the bird.
The Seine was flowing by, an oily sheet carrying bottle corks, vegetable peelings, and other refuse that sometimes collected in temporary whirlpools moving along with the turbulent water. Endless traffic rumbled on the bridge overhead, the noisy bustle of Paris, of which they could glimpse only the rooftops to the left and right, as though they were in the bottom of a deep pit.
The old man moved slowly as if his infirmities were no more than meditations, and entered the house. The crowds moving through the streets gave Erik Dorn a picture. It was morning. Above the heads of the people the great spatula-topped buildings spread a zigzag of windows, a scribble of rooftops against the sky.
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