There are times when the city is mysterious ... a city remembered from ancient times, something for the conqueror to desire. He has fields and gardens and wide rivers running between the hills; but he looks toward the city and longs for it, he marshals his soldiers in bright array, for they are going to woo the city. The mystery of tall buildings panelled with sky, buildings whose surface is a multitude of window-eyes which are void of pupil, except when the sun shines on them and they blaze with a momentary glance; or when they are lighted at night and look out with myriad pin-points of vision. The city that is a magician's box. He has taken squares and squares more than anyone can count…
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