Somehow the tone suggested to Win an incipient engagement of marriage
and jealousy of new importations.
But Mr. Loewenfeld had spoken no more than the truth. Broadway at
night, seen as a pedestrian at the side of Miss Secker, was
astonishing, was marvellous, was unique. The whole sky was alight and
pulsing with its magnificence. Twenty moons would not have been
noticed. Everything that could happen was happening by electricity. It
was Crystal Palace Fireworks, and the Lord Mayor's Show, and
Coronation, and Mafeking, and naval manoeuvres with searchlights, all
flashing and flaming, blazing and gyrating at the same time. Broadway
gleamed white as the north pole, jewelled with rainbow colours,
amazing rubies, emeralds, topazes, grouped in letters or forming
pictures on invisible frames rising high above tall buildings or
appearing on their facades.
Green sea waves billowed brightly, a giant cat winked golden eyes, two
brilliant boxers fought an endless round, a dazzling girl put on and
took off illuminated gloves; a darky's head, as big as a balloon, ate
a special brand of pickled melon; a blue umbrella opened and shut; a
great gilded basket dropped ruby roses (Buy them at Perrin Freres); a
Japanese Geisha, twice life-size, told you where to get kimonos; a
trout larger than a whale appeared and disappeared on a patent hook;
and above all, brighter than all, rose against the paling sky from
somewhere behind Broadway a pair of titanic hands.
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