The city of the blind

When Hines dismissed the police chauffeur and started up to his apartment he was tired. Moreover, it was raining; one of those irritating, persistent, drizzling rains against which a top and windshield is no protection whatever. The street lamps and the entrance lights of the apartment building were reflected by the wetted pavements. The street-lights, in particular, seemed to have little puddles of melted gold about their bases.Hines started wearily across the pavement. Something stirred in the shadows. He faced it, instinctively alert. One does not rise in the detective bureau of the City of New York without acquiring ill-wishers; and one does not survive their ill-will without a little luck and more alertness.But the moving figure was a slickered patrolman, who saluted.