When he appeared in them a little later, he looked doubtfully at himself in the mirror, then suddenly smiled.
“I’ve had them ever since we were married. Their style looks rather quaint, doesn’t it? But I’ve had some very happy minutes inside the old coat. Do you remember this tie, Alice?”
“Why, for mercy’s sake! That was the first thing I ever made you!”
“I haven’t forgotten,” he answered.
As he went slowly out into the hallway and down the noisy wooden stairs, his wife and daughter leaned over the banisters looking at him anxiously.
At last he turned the corner into the avenue. As he looked, he saw a little group of laughing men going up the steps; then he squared his shoulders, and walked briskly across the street and up the steps into the lobby.
The clerk leaned over the desk toward him. “Seventy-six?” Clews nodded: “Yes, my class—Seventy-six.”
“Just down at the end of that corridor.”
There were others standing with him at the checkroom, who nodded to him.
“Did you go to the game?” asked one.