that, after leaving the station, their feet lagged and they lingered, picking up acquaintances on the street; no wonder they idled before window displays and lounged in lobbies, examining the programs of picture plays.
Of course many sauntered into restaurants, of which establishments the district furnished an incredible number and variety. Some imitated old inns and spread tables with cloths at which diners sat in quiet, orderly manner and were served in old fashion; some provided tables but no service except a hurried dishing out of dinner which the patron himself bore, on a tray, to his place. There were cafeterias which dispensed not only with waiters but also with tables, furnishing only wide-arm chairs for the diner's evening board. Still, visible and tangible servers filled the bowls and plates and punched the paper checks.
Then there were the automats where the evolution from the family, gathered about the board in an American home, had gone so far that the prospective diner merely entered and wandered along a marble and metal and glass wall, peering in at dishes behind little locked doors which one might open, by pushing a nickel or several nickels into a slot; whereupon one abstracted the dish, transported it to a table, sat down and ate, and then, if unsatisfied, walked along the wall again, nickel in hand.
Most of all, the automat annoyed Calvin; it seemed to him a symbol of complete disintegration of families; further than this, destruction of the home could not go.
He had learned, from reports made of the Royle girl's habits, that she frequently dined at this place and he passed it, studying it with wonder. He returned toward it and, as he approached, he saw a slender, alert girl in blue disappear through the doorway. Though he had merely a glimpse of her, Calvin did not mistake her; she was the Royle girl; and no one watched her to-night.
