"
"Ain't got no home." The boy laughed cheerfully, and again put his
fist to his mouth and blew upon it. "I'm sleepin' with another boy
this week, but I have to pay him. Please buy a paper, Mister!"
Under his breath Laine caught himself saying something, then handed
the boy a piece of money and passed on. Where was he, anyhow?
Surely he was in no mood for the life of this neighborhood. It was
one he had seldom been in, and as he looked at its houses dull wonder
filled him as to their occupants. To keep breath in their bodies
meant sordid struggle and bitter strife, but possibly they were
happy. Certainly he had long since learned the possession of mere
material things did not mean happiness. He had long since learned a
great many things it was unfortunate to know.
A clock in the church near by struck ten, and turning he went over
into the Avenue and began his walk up-town. As he reached Madison
Square he looked at the empty benches and wondered as to the fate of
the derelicts who daily filled them in warm weather, and wondered if
they, too, wondered what it was all for--this thing called life.
In contrast to the traffic of the day the stillness of the Avenue was
puzzling. Only the whir of an automobile or the occasional hoofbeats
of a cab-horse broke the silence, and hardly less dark than the
tenements just passed were its handsome houses, with their closed
shutters and drawn curtains, and the restless occupants therein.
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