Neal's willing
ear all the latest developments of Bob's acquaintance with the only girl
in the world.
For a long time Mr. Neal lived in daily hope of seeing the face again.
He got into the habit of changing to a local at Fourteenth Street
because it was at that station he had seen the face before, but he
caught not a glimpse of any face resembling the one that he could see at
any time he closed his eyes. Yet he was not discouraged. He was happy,
because he felt that something big and noble had come into his
life--that now he had something to live for. It was only a question of
time, he told himself, until he should find the face. It was but a
question of time--and he could wait.
So the weeks and months passed by. Mr. Neal never relaxed his search for
the face; it had become a part of his life. There was no monotony in his
great game. He always found new faces interesting to classify, some
unusual combination, some degree of emotional development he had not
seen before. But _the_ face never.
Until one Saturday half holiday in December. This is the way it
happened.
Mr. Neal employed this particular half holiday at Columbus Park. Long
ago he had found this park, adjoining Chatham Square and near Chinatown,
Mulberry Bend and the Bowery, a great gathering place for the lower
types of humanity, and such half holidays as he did not spend at the
library studying Lombroso, Darwin, Piderit, Lavater, and other
physiognomists, he usually employed at Columbus Park.
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