“Thought you weren't drinking,” remarked Axia sardonically, but her voice was good to hear; the whole divan that held the man was alive; alive like heat waves over asphalt, like wriggling worms....
“Come back! Come back!” Axia's arm fell on his. “Amory, dear, you aren't going, Amory!” He was half-way to the door.
“Come on, Amory, stick 'th us!”
“Sick, are you?”
“Sit down a second!”
“Take some water.”
“Take a little brandy....”
The elevator was close, and the colored boy was half asleep, paled to a livid bronze... Axia's beseeching voice floated down the shaft. Those feet... those feet...
As they settled to the lower floor the feet came into view in the sickly electric light of the paved hall.
IN THE ALLEY
Down the long street came the moon, and Amory turned his back on it and wal
