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Max by Katherine Cecil Thurston
page 46 of 365 (12%)

It is a good thing to rejoice in spite of the world; it is an infinitely
better thing to rejoice in company with it. With solitude and freedom,
the alarm, the disgust receded, and as he went forward the exultation
grew, until once again his mercurial spirits lifted him as upon wings.

The majority of passers-by at this morning hour were workers--work-girls
out upon their errands, business men going to or from the _cafés_; but
here and there was to be seen an artist, consciously indifferent to
appearances; here and there an artisan, unconsciously picturesque in his
coarse working-clothes; here and there a well-dressed woman, sunning
herself in the cold, bright air like a bird of gay plumage. It was the
world in miniature, and it stirred and piqued his interest. A wish to
stop one of these people, and to pour forth his longings, his hopes, his
dreams, surged within him in a glow of fellowship and, smiling to
himself at the pleasant wildness of the thought, he made his way through
the wider spaces of the Place Lafayette and the Square Montholon into
the long, busy rue Lafayette.

Here, in the rue Lafayette, the gloomy aspects of the district he had
made his own dropped behind him, and a wealth of bustle and gayety
greeted and fascinated him. Here the sun seemed fuller, the traffic was
more dense, and the shops offered visions to please every sense. Wine
shops were here, curio shops, shops all golden and tempting with cheeses
and butter, and hat shops that foretold the spring in a glitter of blues
and greens. He passed on, jostling the crowd good-humoredly, being
jostled in the same spirit, hugging his freedom with a silent joy.

Down the rue Halévy he went and on into the Place de l'Opéra; but here
he slackened his pace, and something of his _insouciance_ dropped from
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