WHITEWASH
hair bristled with helpless pins, and the constant gesture by which she absent-mindedly strove to push them in brought up a thousand affectionate memories.
Involuntarily he quickened his pace, closing the distance between them till only a foot or so intervened.
"Tory," he called, "hold on; wait for me."
The girl turned abruptly, her face all stretched to speak, but she looked in his face for an instant, and moved on in silence, joining her step with his.
The years slipped by as if by a miracle; they were boy and girl again, walking off a rage in the old way. The ugly brick avenue, with its withered shops and shabby boarding-houses, took on a beautiful, friendly familiarity; every iron grating had its little history, every show-window its episode. Even the changes consequent upon the lapse of time served to recall the houses that had vanished.
Gradually the old spirit took hold of them; their recent troubles and estrangement fell away.
