rent the white veil of the storm, into regions
of beauty....

And now the world seemed abandoned to them alone, so empty, so still
were the white villages flitting by; so empty, so still the great
parkway of the Fells stretching away and away like an enchanted forest
under the snow, like the domain of some sleeping king. And the flakes
melted silently into the black waters. And the wide avenue to which they
came led to a sleeping palace! No, it was a city, Somerville, Ditmar
told her, as they twisted in and out of streets, past stores, churches
and fire-engine houses, breasted the heights, descended steeply on the
far side into Cambridge, and crossed the long bridge over the Charles.
And here at last was Boston--Beacon Street, the heart or funnel of it,
as one chose. Ditmar, removing one of the side curtains that she might
see, with just a hint in his voice of a reverence she was too excited
to notice, pointed out the stern and respectable facades of the twin
Chippering mansions standing side by side. Save for these shrines--for
such in some sort they were to him--the Back Bay in his eyes was nothing
more than a collection of houses inhabited by people whom money and
social position made unassailable. But to-day he, too, was excited.
Never had he been more keenly aware of her sensitiveness to experience;
and he to whom it had not occurred to wonder at Boston wondered at her,
who seemed able to summon forth a presiding, brooding spirit of the
place from out of the snow. Deep in her eyes, though they sparkled, was
the reflection of some mystic vision; her cheeks were flushed. And in
her delight, vicariously his own, he rejoiced; in his trembling hope of
more delight to come, which this mentorship would enhance,--despite the
fast deepening snow he drove her up one side of Commonwealth Avenue and
down the other, encircling the Common and the Public Garden; stopping at
the top of Park Street that she might gaze up at the State House, whose
golden dome, seen through the veil, was tinged with blue. Boston! Why
not Russia? Janet was speechless for sheer lack of words to describe
what she felt....

At length he brought the car to a halt opposite an imposing doorway
in front of which a glass roof extended over the pavement, and Janet
demanded where they were.

"Well, we've got to eat, haven't we?" Ditmar replied. She noticed that
he was shivering.

"Are you cold?" she inquired with concern.

"I guess I am, a little," he re