hailed by name Italians, Greeks, Belgians, Syrians, and "French"; he
hailed Janet, too, with respectful cheerfulness, taking off his hat. He
possessed the rare, warm vitality that is irresistible. A native of
Hampton, still in his thirties, his sharp little nose and twinkling blue
eyes proclaimed the wisdom that is born and not made; his stiff hair had
a twist like the bristles in the cleaning rod of a gun.

He gave Janet the odd impression that he understood her. And she did not
understand herself!

By the time she reached the Common the winter sun, as though red from
exertion, had begun to dispel the smoke and heavy morning mists. She
disliked winter, the lumpy brown turf mildewed by the frost, but one day
she was moved by a quality, hitherto unsuspected, in the delicate tracery
against the sky made by the slender branches of the great elms and
maples. She halted on the pavement, her eyes raised, heedless of
passers-by, feeling within her a throb of the longing that could be so
oddly and unexpectedly aroused.

Her way lay along Faber Street, the main artery of Hampton, a wide strip
of asphalt threaded with car tracks, lined on both sides with incongruous
edifices indicative of a rapid, undiscriminating, and artless prosperity.
There were long stretches of "ten foot" buildings, so called on account
of the single story, their height deceptively enhanced by the
superimposition of huge and gaudy signs, one on top of another,
announcing the merits of "Stewart's Amberine Ale," of "Cooley's Oats, the
Digestible Breakfast Food," of graphophones and "spring heeled" shoes,
tobacco, and naphtha soaps. "No, We don't give Trading Stamps, Our
Products are Worth all You Pay." These "ten foot" stores were the
repositories of pianos, automobiles, hardware, and millinery, and