lightedstreets，withadelicioussenseofsnugnessandsecurity，beingallthemorecloselyunitedfortheirquarrel。Here，fartheruptheavenue，theyhadoncebeentoaparty，andhehaddancedforthefirsttimeinhislifewithEdith。HerewasDelmonico’s，wheretheyhadhadsuchfascinatingluncheonstogether;whereshehadgotastainonherdress，andhehadbeenforcedtoobservethatherdresswasthennotreallyapartofherself，sinceitwasathingthatcouldnotbestained。Herdresshadalwaysseemedtohimassomethingabsoluteandfinal，exaltedabovecriticism，incapableofimprovement。
AsIhavesaid，Halfdanwalkedbrisklyuptheavenue，anditwassomethingafterelevenwhenhereachedthehousewhichhesought。Thegreatcloud—bankinthenorthhadthenbeguntoexpandandstretcheditslongmistyarmseastwardandwestwardovertheheavens。Thewindowsontheground—floorweredark，butthesleepingapartmentsintheupperstorieswerelighted。InEdith’sroomtheinsideshutterswereclosed，butoneofthewindowswasalittledownatthetop。Andashestoodgazingwithtremuloushappinessuptothatwindow，astanzafromHeinewhichheandEdithhadoftenreadtogether，cameintohishead。ItwasthestoryoftheyouthwhogoestotheMadonnaatKevlarandbringsherasavotiveofferingaheartofwax，thatshemayhealhimofhisloveandhissorrow。
\"Ibringthiswaxenimage，Theimageofmyheart，Healthoumybittersorrow，Andcuremydeadlysmart！\"[4]
[4]Translation，from\"Exotics。ByJ。F。C。&C。L。\"
Thencamethethoughtthatforhim，too，asforthepooryouthofCologne，therewashealingonlyindeath。AndstillinthismomenthewassonearEdith，shouldseeherperhaps，andthejoyatthiswasstrongerthanallelse，strongereventhandeath。Sohesatdownbesidethestepsofthemansionopposite，wheretherewassomeshelterfromthewind，andwaitedpatientlytillEdithshouldcloseherwin—