The light of day dies out of the sky. There on a bench sit four Turks in bagging trousers fezes, and gold-trimmed jackets. Here stands a man carefully dressed, whose every movement bespeaks power. College girls, working-girls, soldiers, cadets, officers, and hundreds and thousands from the ranks of American men and women are gathered waiting. The few lights on the posts have disappeared, and semi-darkness envelops the scene.
Pink dots appear everywhere.
The dots of pink have now become lines of soft radiance growing whiter each minute. Strong and full are the notes of a song that, under the influence of the time, is a nation's anthem. So perfectly timed is this wonder of light that its fullest radiance is reached as the last note of music dies away. But the spell is not broken. The thousands stand transfixed.