CHAPTER X
Out of the subway they emerged into a noisy tenement street. Roger had
known such streets as this, but only in the night-time, as picturesque and
adventurous ways in an underground world he had explored in search of
strange old glittering rings. It was different now. Gone were the Rembrandt
shadows, the leaping flare of torches, the dark surging masses of weird
uncouth humanity. Here in garish daylight were poverty and ugliness, here
were heaps of refuse and heavy smells and clamor. It disgusted and repelled
him, and he was tempted to turn back. But glancing at Deborah by his side
he thought of the night she had been through. No, he decided, he would go
on and see what she was up to here.
They turned into a narrower street between tall dirty tenements, and in a
twinkling all was changed. For the street, as far as he could see, was gay
with flaunting colors, torrents of bobbing hats and ribbons, frocks and
blouses, shirts and breeches, vivid reds and yellows and blues. It was
deafening with joyous cries, a shrill incessant chatter, chatter, piercing
yells and shrieks of laughter. Children, swarms of children, children of
all sizes passed him, clean and dirty, smiling, scowling, hurrying,
running, pummeling, grabbing, whirling each other 'round and 'round--till
the very air seemed quivering with wild spirits and new life!
He heard Deborah laughing. Five hilarious small boys had hold of her hands
and were marching in triumph waving their caps.
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