187
THE HONEYMOON FLAT
187
as he got his teeth into the worn mouthpiece of his pipe again; and in the contented silence that ensued—looking out over the houses that had once been merely street-walls to them, and remembering the lives they had led on the pavements and in the shops—those two waifs of the city were vaguely conscious of the eternal miracle of domesticity and mildness that had been worked in them by their Honeymoon Flat.
