“Good night, Joe,” the departing gentleman paused to repeat.
“What?”
“Nothing,” said Lucius. “I only said ‘good night.’ ”
“All right,” said Joe absently. “Good night.”
Mr. Allen took a musical departure. “Oh, as I strolled out one summer evening,” he sang, “for to meet Miss Nellie Green, all the birds and the flow’rs was singing sweetly, wherev-urr they was to be seen!”
Thus, singing heartily, he passed between the swinging-doors and out to the street. Here he continued his euphonic mood, but moderated his expression of it to an inconspicuous humming. Dusk had fallen, a dusk as scented and as alive with spring as he had claimed it would be; and a fair shaft of the rising moon already struck upon the white cupola of the courthouse.
. . . Mary Ricketts was leaning upon the front gate of the Ricketts place when he came there.
“Good evening, Miss Mary,” he said. “Are the Judge and your mother at home?”
“They’re right there on the front porch, Mr. Allen,” she said cordially. “Won’t you come in?”