The Master got out, and turned to help the Mistress to alight.

It was the place they had decided on for luncheon.

Another three hours, at most, would carry them to their destination.
A negro boy, loafing aimlessly at the street corner, had begun to whistle industriously to himself as the car slowed down.

And he had wakened into active motion.

Apparently, he remembered all at once an important mission on the other side of the street.