“Like you are without no dressing-up, I want you to come. You are the kind what people look in your eyes and not on what you got on. Ain’t you yourself the one what helped me with my love troubles? And now, when everything is turning out happy, you mean to tell me that you ain’t going to be there?” She gave me a grab over and kissed me in a way that I couldn’t say “No” to her. So I shined myself up in the best I had and went to the wedding. I was in the middle from giving my congratulations to Yetta and her new husband, when--Gott! Gott im Himmel! The sky is falling to the earth! I see him--him, and his wife leaning on his arm, coming over. I gave a fall back, like something sharp hit me. My head got dizzy, and my eyes got blind. I wanted to run away from him, but, ach! everything in me rushed to him. I was feeling like struck deaf, dumb, and blind all in one. He must have said something to me, and I must have answered back something to him, but how? What? I only remember like in a dream my getting to the cloakroom. Such a tearing, grinding pain was dragging me down to the floor that I had to hold on to the wall not to fall. All of a sudden I feel a pull on my arm. It was the janitor with the broom in his hand. “Lady, are you sick? The wedding people is all gone, and I swept up already.” But I couldn’t wake up from myself. “Lady, the lights is going out,” he says, looking on me queer. “I think I ain’t well,” I said. And I went out. * * * * * Ach, I see again the time when we was lovers! How beautiful the world was then! “Maybe there never was such love like ours, and never will be,” we was always telling one another. When we was together there was like a light shining around us, the light from his heart on mine, and from my heart on his. People began to look happy just looking on us. When we was walking we didn’t feel we was touching the earth but flying high up through the air. We looked on the rest of the people with pity, because it was seeming to us that we was the only two persons awake, and all the rest was hurrying and pushing and slaving and crowding one on the other without the splendidness of feeling for what it was all for, like we was feeling it. David was learning for a doctor. Daytimes he went to college, and nights he was in a drug-store. I was working in a factory on shirt-waists. We was poor. But we didn’t feel poor. The waists I was sewing flyed like white birds through my fingers, because his face was shining out of everything I touched.