"
Someone dug a joyful thumb into Curtis's ribs. It was the girl's
husband.
"Gee, it's fine to be home again!" he said huskily. "Your leaning
towers of Pisa are all right by way of a change, but deal me the
Metropolitan for keeps, an' I've just spotted my old dad grinning at me
like a Cheshire cat from the middle of a crowd wedged so tight that it
would take a panic to squeeze in an extra walking-stick."
So the knowledge was borne in on Curtis that one could feel quite as
lonely on C Deck as on A, and, case-hardened wanderer that he was, he
badly wanted someone to yell at gleefully among the waiting multitude.
Now the gangways were out, and West folded East in her willing arms.
The stolid masses of steamship and Customs shed obliterated the orange
and crimson sky still gleaming over the Jersey shore, and pallid
electric lights revealed but vaguely the ever-changing groups beyond
the gangways.
To an experienced traveler like Curtis all Custom-houses were alike,
dingy, nerve-racking, superfluous clogs on free movement. Taking his
time, for he had none to embrace or greet with outstretched hand, he
strolled quietly off the ship, collected his baggage, which was piled
with other people's belongings under a big "C," and nodded to Devar,
similarly engaged at "D.
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