nearly midnight
Might not a man seeing her there be disappointed when he met her as she really was ? She studied her face intently , viewing it at different angles , judging it by the standards of her world . By these she found it wanting , and with a wistful sigh she stretched out her hand and turned off the light . It was nearly midnight when she walked down the side streets that led to the car line which took her home . Overhead the fog hung , covering the city with a luminous rack which here and there parted , showing segments of dark , star-dotted sky . Passing men looked at her , some meeting a defiant stare , others a face so chastely unresponsive that they averted their eyes as if rebuked . On the car she took an outside seat , for she loved the swift passage through the night with the chill air on her face .