The other little girl was actually an infant that the mother was holding, as she stood on the lawn, now that I think of it. And perhaps that infant wasn’t a girl but was a boy, I’m not certain. But for some reason I think she was a girl. In any case, I glimpsed them all only very briefly, out the corner of my eye. And I remember thinking to myself how the scene through which I was passing, or of which I was part, was one I hadn’t encountered yet, in this neighborhood, even while it fit so consistently with my experience of the neighborhood, and of the city in which the neighborhood exists.