“In the morning,

In the evening,

Ain’t we got fun⁠—”

“In the morning, In the evening, Ain’t we got fun⁠—”

Outside the wind was loud and there was a faint flow of thunder along the Sound. All the lights were going on in West Egg now; the electric trains, men-carrying, were plunging home through the rain from New York. It was the hour of a profound human change, and excitement was generating on the air.