then he realized that Wanda Malone's hair was not red. The girl
in the limousine had red hair, and was altogether unlike Wanda
Malone in feature and expression.

He walked on angrily.

Immediately a slender girl, prettily dressed, passed him. She
clung charmingly to the arm of a big boy; and to Canby's first
glance she was Wanda Malone. Wrenching his eyes from her, he saw
Wanda Malone across the street getting into a taxicab, and then
he stumbled out of the way of a Wanda Malone who almost walked
into him. Wherever there was a graceful gesture or turn of the
head, there was Wanda Malone.

He wheeled, and walked back toward Broadway, and thought he caught a
glimpse of Packer going into a crowded drug-store near the corner.
The man he took to be Packer lifted his hat and spoke to a girl who
was sitting at a table and drinking soda-water, but when she looked
up and seemed to be Wanda Malone with a blue veil down to her nose,
Canby turned on his heel, face-about, and headed violently for
home.

When he reached quieter streets his gait slackened, and he
walked slowly, lost in deep reverie. By and by he came to a
halt, and stood still for several minutes without knowing it.
Slowly he came out of the trance, wondering where he was. Then
he realized that his staring eyes had halted him automatically;
and as they finally conveyed their information to his conscious
mind, he perceived that he was standing directly in front of a
saloon, and glaring at the sign upon the window: