it with sand. Protected thus against the loss of the clothes, or the impounding of them if a policeman came, he dived and romped with the other boys.
He did not know why the satisfaction which he found in this disappeared as afternoon approached.
When it grew late enough, he went to the "loop" to get his papers. He stood a long while watching the wagonmen, but made no move to get any papers, and finally walked slowly north. He did not consciously plan where he was going, but presently he saw the Lake Shore Drive and Beman's house. He sat down on the esplanade across from the house, looking at it. He knew now that he wanted to go back to Beman, but he knew also that this was impossible because of Beman's anger.
The connection between himself and Beman, when he had believed himself the son of Walter Markyn, had been attenuated; still there had seemed then an actual connection. That he was the son of Beman's granddaughter's husband had given him a certain right to be in the house.
