upstairs to bed. Two thoughts went with him--apparently quite ordinary
and sensible ones:

"What fools these peasants are to sleep through such a night!" And the
other:

"Those dances tire me. I'll never go again. My work only suffers in the
morning." The claims of peasants and tourists upon him seemed thus in a
single instant weakened.

The clash of battle troubled half his dreams. Nature had sent her Beauty
of the Night and won the first assault. The others, routed and dismayed,
fled far away.




II


"Don't go back to your dreary old post office. We're going to have
supper in my room--something hot. Come and join us. Hurry up!"

There had been an ice carnival, and the last party, tailing up the
snow-slope to the hotel, called him. The Chinese lanterns smoked and
sputtered on the wires; the band had long since gone. The cold was
bitter and the moon came only momentarily between high, driving clouds.
From the shed where the people changed from skates to snow-boots he
shouted something to the effect that he was "following"; but no answer
came; the moving shadows of those who had called were already merged