She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. She saw his lips yell, “Stop. "Where did you find it!" asked Wood.
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