John Galsworthy,
The Patrician
“ In the silence that followed Miltoun saw that they were in Leicester Square, all quiet as yet before the theatres had disgorged; quiet yet waiting, with the lights, like yellow stars low-driven from the dark heavens, clinging to the white shapes of music-halls and cafes, and a sort of flying glamour blanching the still foliage of the plane trees. “A 'whitely wanton'—this Square!” said Courtier: “Alive as a face; no end to its queer beauty! ”
