Roberts smiled in appreciation, acutely aware of the faint and lovely perfume of her violets.
“Did you come alone, Deane?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then,” said the adviser, his voice curiously naive and youthful, “let me drive you home. I have my car.”
She stepped into the aisle by his side and as they walked out together the distinguished grace of his movements and the coloring in his cheeks, still flushed by the spell of the music, made Deane conscious of the beauty of a sex that shocked her heart but held her mind; and in this acceptance every light in her hair and eyes acquired luminance until she was betrayed—and Roberts looked, turned blind, and never looked again.
The early darkness of winter had descended and the streets were brightly lit with red and green lights. Snow, falling gently, coated the buildings and walks. The holiday atmosphere—the thought of Christmas, gave them a feeling of friendliness. They drove over to Fifth Avenue.
All down the broad expanse of the great boulevard swept the Yuletide spirit. The thick streams of people, carrying boxes and parcels wrapped in colored paper, seemed compact—a constant mass instead of one of gigantic fluctuation. At the corners they bumped and jostled each other, frantically trying to retrieve dropped packages, laughing all the while. There they were, pouring their laughter and hustle and gay concern over the Avenue—a huge, comforting block of the world, this infinite throng.
As Deane and Roberts passed St. Patrick’s Cathedral they noticed that the doors of the church had been thrown open—a silent welcome to the holiday crowds. There was an impression of austere immensity; and over the kneeling figures which had sought tranquillity within the sacred vault there shone a great soft radiance, whether from electric lights or candles on the altar, Deane and Roberts did not know.
Farther down the Avenue they could hear the muffled sound of chimes; and as they drew near one of the department stores the sound became more brilliant until they noticed that behind the glass of the one window which ran its entire front length there was nothing but an illusion of depth in a green-blue sky and two large gold bells, swinging slowly back and forth.