Suddenly she had become afraid. Later, she understood his reasons; and it had now become habit. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. She had done forever with the Age of Chivalry, and her own base adaptations of its traditions to the compromising life. “Won’t you have some more tea, Mr.
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