The short days of the year had come, and it was dark before the
whistles blew. When the signal came, Bibbs went to the office, where
he divested himself of his overalls--his single divergence from the
routine of his fellow-workmen--and after that he used soap and water
copiously. This was his transformation scene: he passed into the
office a rather frail young working-man noticeably begrimed, and
passed out of it to the pavement a cheerfully pre-occupied sample
of gentry, fastidious to the point of elegance.
The sidewalk was crowded with the bearers of dinner-pails, men and
boys and women and girls from the work-rooms that closed at five.
Many hurried and some loitered; they went both east and west, jostling
one another, and Bibbs, turning his face homeward, was forced to go
slowly.
Coming toward him, as slowly, through the crowd, a tall girl caught
sight of his long, thin figure and stood still until he had almost
passed her, for in the thick crowd and the thicker gloom he did not
recognize her, though his shoulder actually touched hers. He would
have gone by, but she laughed delightedly; and he stopped short,
startled. Two boys, one chasing the other, swept between them, and
Bibbs stood still, peering about him in deep perplexity.
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