★★★★★ The breeze had wended its way even down the stairway leading toward the batting cages in the old bank basement. Voices in the morning throng by the subway entrance marveled aloud at how nice it was. “I’m liftin’ weights, I’m lookin’ outside,” a man said. The light was sharp and attentive; reflections in the windows were more solid than whatever was in the interiors. The breeze stayed cool even as the sun got warmer. The shades on the upper floors of the Empire State Building, lowered or half-lowered, made irregular patterns of light blue almost identical to the color of the sky behind. Fabrics were unwilted at evening rush hour. The sinking sun hit a band of cloud and flared out above and below it. The crust of the pie from the grocery store was light and crispy, untouched by humidity.