Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Young men -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
“Rufus Hardinge,” he called, hurrying away.
Anthony stood gazing in incredulous surprise at the polished, brown
wallet in his hand. He turned to hurry after the other, to protest, but
already he was out of sight. Anthony slipped the wallet in his pocket,
and, his head in a whirl, walked slowly over the street until he found
himself opposite a large retail clothing establishment. After a brief
hesitation he entered, pausing to glance hastily at his resources. In
the leather pocket which contained the paper money he saw a comfortable
number of crisp yellow bills; the rest of the space was taken up by
bulky and wholly unintelligible notes.
He purchased a serviceable suit, stout shoes, a cap, and, after a short
consideration, two flannel shirts. If this were not satisfactory, he
concluded, he could pay with a portion of his salary. The slip of the
total amount, which he carefully folded, registered thirty-one dollars
and seventy cents.
At a small tobacco shop, where he drew upon his own rapidly diminishing
capital, he discovered from the proprietor that it would be necessary
to take a suburban car to the address furnished him. He rolled rapidly
between rows of small, identical, orderly brick dwellings; on each
shallow portico a door exhibited an obviously meretricious graining;
dingy or garish curtains draped the single lower windows; the tin eaves
were continuous, unvaried, monotonous. Occasionally a greengrocer's
display broke the monotony of the vitreous way, a rare saloon or
drugstore held the corners. Farther on the street suffered a decline,
the line of dwellings was broken by patches of bedraggled gardens, set
with the broken fragments of stone ornaments; small frame structures,
streaked by the weather and blistered remnants of paint, alternated with
stables, stores heaped with the sorry miscellanies of meager, disrupted
households. Imperceptibly green spaces opened, foliage fluttered in the
orange light of the declining sun; through an opening in the habited
wall he caught sight of a glimmering stream, cows wandering against a
hill.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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