and the faint moon-path stretched farther and farther toward the
smudgy sky-line, city-going street-cars began to fill with sunburned
passengers, and motors began to purr out of the narrow side streets
lined with shoddy buildings which housed the summer sojourners. One
more Sunday night's revelry was tapering off into shouted farewells,
clanging gongs, honking horns and the shuffling of tired feet hurrying
homeward.

In cafes and grills and private dining rooms groups of revelers, whose
pleasures were not halted by the nickel alarm-clocks ticking
inexorably all over the city and its suburbs, still lingered long
after the masses had gone home yawning and counting the fullness of
past joys by the present extent of smarting sunblisters.

Automobiles loaded with singing passengers scurried after their own
beams of silver light down the boulevards. At first a continuous line
of speeding cars; then thinning with long gaps between; then longer
gaps with only an occasional car; then the quiet, lasting for minutes
unbroken, so that the wind could be heard in the eucalyptus trees that
here and there lined the boulevard.

After the last street-car had clanged away from the deserted
bunting-draped joy zone that now was stark and joyless, a belated
seven-passenger car, painted a rich plum color and splendid in
upholstering and silver trim, swept a long row of darkened windows
with a brush of light as it swung out from a narrow alley and went
purring down to where the asphalt shone black in the night.

Full throated laughter and a medley of shouted jibes and
current witticisms went with it. The tonneau squirmed with uproarious