Knew the heart of merriment,
And forgot it.
Why, O little songster bird,
Grew you quiet?
How learned you, O heart, to know
Gloomy sorrow?”
THE MURDERER
When Marowitz arrived at the station-house to report for duty, the sergeant gazed at him curiously.
“You’re to report at headquarters immediately,” he said. “I don’t know what for. The Chief just sent word that he wants to see you.”
Marowitz looked bewildered. Summons to headquarters usually meant trouble. Rewards usually came through the precinct Captain. Marowitz wondered what delinquency he was to be reprimanded for. He could think of nothing that he had done in violation of the regulations.