"What, reelly goin?" he asked.
Ernie experienced quite suddenly an immeasurable superiority to the head-porter.
"I am, Mr. Conklin."
"Without your wages?"
"I'll leave them to you, Mr. Conklin," said Ernie quietly. "They're the wages of sin. This place is a brothel. And your Christ is my Devil."
Leisurely, with a certain joy in his heart, and his bundle in his hand, he crossed the road to the Redoubt and climbed the motor-bus for Old Town.
As he did so the memory of a like journey with a companion at his side was strong upon him.
Somehow he had a feeling that Ruth would be on the top, awaiting him.
Standing on the steps he peeped warily.
She was not there; and his heart, that had been soaring, crashed to earth.