Touched with Fire

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They stood in the blazing sunlight for a long while, looking at the bright faces of their old-fashioned railroad watches, while the shadows tilted beneath them, swaying, and the perspiration ran out under their porous summer hats. When they uncovered their heads to mop their lined and pinkened brows, their hair was white and soaked through, like something that had been out of the light for years. One of the men commented that his shoes felt like two loaves of baked bread and then, sighing warmly, added:

«Are you positive this is the right tenement?»

The second old man, Foxe by name, nodded, as if any quick motion might make him catch fire by friction alone. «I saw this woman every day for three days. She'll show up. If she's still alive, that is. Wait till you see her, Shaw. Lord! what a case.»

«Such an odd business,» said Shaw. «If people knew they'd think us Peeping Toms, doddering old fools. Lord, I feel self-conscious standing here.»

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