When the signal came, Bibbs went to the office, where he divested himself of his overalls--his single divergence from the routine of his fellow-workmen--and after that he used soap and water copiously.

This was his transformation scene: he passed into the office a rather frail young working-man noticeably begrimed, and passed out of it to the pavement a cheerfully pre-occupied sample of gentry, fastidious to the point of elegance.
The sidewalk was crowded with the bearers of dinner-pails, men and boys and women and girls from the work-rooms that closed at five.

Many hurried and some loitered; they went both east and west, jostling one another, and Bibbs, turning his face homeward, was forced to go slowly.
Coming toward him, as slowly, through the crowd, a tall girl caught sight of his long, thin figure and stood still until he had almost passed her, for in the thick crowd and the thicker gloom he did not recognize her, though his shoulder actually touched hers.

He would have gone by, but she laughed delightedly; and he stopped short, startled.
Two boys, one chasing the other, swept between them, and Bibbs stood still, peering about him in deep perplexity.

She leaned toward him.
"I knew YOU!" she said.
"Good heavens!" cried Bibbs.