out of apertures shone

They were over the bridge now, and entering the northwest side of the town. "This is Main Street," said Mulligan, "and this," he said, crossing Main Street and turning right, "is the town square."
Even in the winter the town square was impressive, but Shadow knew that this place was meant to be seen in summer: it would be a riot of color, of poppies and irises and flowers of every kind, and the clump of birch trees in one corner would be a green and silver bower. Now it was colorless, beautiful in a skeletal way, the bandshell empty, the fountain turned off for the winter, the brownstone city hall capped by white snow .
"...and this," concluded Chad Mulligan, bringing the car to a stop outside a high glass-fronted old building on the west of the square, "is Mabel's."
He got out of the car, opened the passenger door for Shadow. The two men put their heads down against the cold and the wind, and hurried across the sidewalk and into a warm room, fragrant with the smells of new-baked bread, of pastry and soup and bacon.
The place was almost empty. Mulligan sat down at a table and Shadow sat opposite him. He suspected that Mulligan was doing this to get a feel for the stranger in town. Then again, the police chief might simply be what he appeared: friendly, helpful, good.
A woman bustled over to their table, not fat but big, her hair bottle-bronze kangertech ecig.
"Hello, Chad," she said. "You'll want a hot chocolate while you're thinking." She handed them two laminated menus.
"No cream on the top, though," he agreed. "Mabel knows me too well," he said to Shadow. "What'll it be, pal?"
"Hot chocolate sounds great," said Shadow. "And I'm happy to have the whipped cream on the top."
"That's good," said Mabel. "Live dangerously, hon. Are you going to introduce me, Chad? Is this young man a new officer ?"
"Not yet," said Chad Mulligan, with a flash of white teeth. "This is Mike Ainsel. He moved to Lakeside last night. Now, if you'll excuse me." He got up, walked to the back of the room, through the door marked POINTERS. It was next to a door marked SETTERS.
"You're the new man in the apartment up on Northridge Road. The old Pilsen place. Oh, yes," she said, happily, "I know just who you are. Hinzelmann was by this morning for his morning pasty, he told me all about you. You boys only having hot chocolate or you want to look at the breakfast menu?"
"Breakfast for me," said Shadow. "What's good?"
"Everything's good," said Mabel. "I make it. But this is the farthest south and east of the yoopie you can get pasties, and they are particularly good. Warming and filling too. My speciality."