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 apart from himself or pity himself as above his surroundings; and he was so accustomed to having events leap upon him unforeseen that he accepted this last bewildering turn of fortune in his usual dazed absorption of new sights. It was no more abrupt and strange to him than his meetings with Margaret or his partings from her, his arrival at college or his leaving it, his varying relations with Conroy, with his father, with the whole world, in fact—this world of which he never seemed able to discern the motives or foresee the acts. Always, as soon as he had planned a future to the last detail of desire, a turn of the road faced him with the unexpected, and he stood lost.

At the barker's hoarse cry of "All free, gents. All free. Step right inside," Tower and he sauntering past the door, appeared to stop and hesitate. "It costs yuh nothin', now. It's free gratis, free—all free—an' the fines' show on the Bowery. Step right inside." Tower replied to this invitation, "jollying" the barker, and two or three of the passers-by stood to smile and listen. They followed Tower in, for he looked liked a visitor to town "doing the Bowery," and his smiling curiosity was infectious. Within, on a raised "ballyhoo" platform, there was a "fire-eater" in a Mephistophelian costume, a long-haired "Hindo" who danced bare-footed on broken glass, and a perspiring juggler in faded blue tights; and Tower, watching them go through their "stunts," played his part of inquisitive idler with the ease of an actor, making humorous remarks to Don in loud asides that amused his neighbours in the crowd, and challenging the "spieler" with