help　pay　the　rent　of　the　rat…holes　where　you　live。〃　　Once　more　he　was
  interrupted　by　angry　shouts　of　approval。　　〃And　the　labour　unions；　have
  they　aided　you？　　Why　not？　　I　will　tell　you　whybecause　they　are　the
  servile　instruments　of　the　masters。　　The　unions　say　that　capital　has
  rights；　bargain　with　it；　but　for　us　there　can　be　only　one　bargain；
  complete　surrender　of　the　tools　to　the　workers。　　For　the　capitalists　are
  parasites　who　suck　your　blood　and　your　children's　blood。　　From　now　on
  there　can　be　no　compromise；　no　truce；　no　peace　until　they　are
  exterminated。　　It　is　war。〃　　War！　　In　Janet's　soul　the　word　resounded　like
  a　tocsin。　　And　again；　as　when　swept　along　East　Street　with　the　mob；　that
  sense　of　identity　with　these　people　and　their　wrongs；　of　submergence　with
  them　in　their　cause　possessed　her。　　Despite　her　ancestry；　her　lot　was
  cast　with　them。　　She；　too；　had　been　precariously　close　to　poverty；　had
  known　the　sordidness　of　life；　she；　too；　and　Lise　and　Hannah　had　been
  duped　and　cheated　of　the　fairer　things。　　Eagerly　she　had　drunk　in　the
  vocabulary　of　that　new　and　terrible　philosophy。　　The　master　class　must　be
  exterminated！　　Was　it　not　true；　if　she　had　been　of　that　class；　that
  Ditmar　would　not　have　dared　to　use　and　deceive　her？　　Why　had　she　never
  thought　of　these　things　before？。。。　　The　light　was　beginning　to　fade；　the
  great　meeting　was　breaking　up；　and　yet　she　lingered。　　At　the　foot　of　the
  bandstand　steps；　conversing　with　a　small　group　of　operatives　that
  surrounded　him；　she　perceived　the　man　who　had　just　spoken。　　And　as　she
  stood　hesitating；　gazing　at　him；　a　desire　to　hear　more；　to　hear　all　of
  this　creed　he　preached；　that　fed　the　fires　in　her　soul；　urged　her
  forward。　　Her　need；　had　she　known　it；　was　even　greater　than　that　of　these
  toilers　whom　she　now　called　comrades。　　Despite　some　qualifying　reserve
  she　felt；　and　which　had　had　to　do　with　the　redness　of　his　lips；　he
  attracted　her。　　He　had　a　mind；　an　intellect；　he　must　possess　stores　of
  the　knowledge　for　which　she　thirsted；　he　appeared　to　her　as　one　who　had
  studied　and　travelled；　who　had　ascended　heights　and　gained　the　wider　view
  denied　her。　　A　cynical　cosmopolitanism　would　have　left　her　cold；　but
  here；　apparently；　was　a　cultivated　man　burning　with　a　sense　of　the
  world's　wrongs。　　Ditmar；　who　was　to　have　led　her　out　of　captivity；　had
  only　thrust　her　the　deeper　into　bondage。。。。　　She　joined　the　group；
  halting　on　the　edge　of　it；　listening。　　Rolfe　was　arguing　with　a　man　about
  the　labour　unions；　but　almost　at　once　she　knew　she　had　fixed　his
  attention。　　From　time　to　time；　as　he　talked；　his　eyes　sought　hers　boldly；
  and　in　their　dark　pupils　were　tiny　points　of　light　that　stirred　and
  confused　her；　made　her　wonder　what　was　behind　them；　in　his　soul。　　When　he
  had　finished　his　argument；　he　singled　her　out。
  〃You　do　not　work　in　the　mills？〃　he　asked。
  〃No；　I'm　a　stenographeror　I　was　one。〃
  〃And　now？〃
  〃I've　given　up　my　place。〃
  〃You　want　to　join　us？〃
  〃I　was　interested　in　what　you　said。　　I　never　heard　anything　like　it
  before。〃
  He　looked　at　her　intently。
  〃Come；　let　us　walk　a　little　way；〃　he　said。　　And　she　went　along　by　his
  side；　through　the　Common；　feeling　a　neophyte's　excitement　in　the
  freemasonry；　the　contempt　for　petty　conventions　of　this　newly　achieved
  doctrine　of　brotherhood。　　〃I　will　give　you　things　to　read；　you　shall　be
  one　of　us。〃
  〃I'm　afraid　I　shouldn't　understand　them；〃　Janet　replied。　　〃I've　read　so
  little。〃
  〃Oh；　you　will　understand；〃　he　assured　her；　easily。　　〃There　is　too　much
  learning；　too　much　reason　and　intelligence　in　the　world；　too　little
  impulse　and　feeling；　intuition。　　Where　do　reason　and　intelligence　lead
  us？　　To　selfishness；　to　thirst　for　power…straight　into　the　master　class。
  They　separate　us　from　the　mass　of　humanity。　　No；　our　fight　is　against
  those　who　claim　more　enlightenment　than　their　fellowmen；　who　control　the
  public　schools　and　impose　reason　on　our　children；　because　reason　leads　to
  submission；　makes　us　content　with　our　station　in　life。　　The　true
  syndicalist　is　an　artist；　a　revolutionist！〃　he　cried。
  Janet　found　this　bewildering　and　yet　through　it　seemed　to　shine　for　her　a
  gleam　of　light。　　Her　excitement　grew。　　Never　before　had　she　been　in　the
  presence　of　one　who　talked　like　this；　with　such　assurance　and　ease。　　And
  the　fact　that　he　despised　knowledge；　yet　possessed　it；　lent　him　glamour。
  〃But　you　have　studied！〃　she　exclaimed。
  〃Oh　yes；　I　have　studied；〃　he　replied；　with　a　touch　of　weariness；　〃only　to
  learn　that　life　is　simple；　after　all；　and　that　what　is　needed　for　the
  social　order　is　simple。　　We　have　only　to　take　what　belongs　to　us；　we　who
  work；　to　follow　our　feelings；　our　inclinations。〃
  〃You　would　take　possession　of　the　mills？〃　she　asked。
  〃Yes；〃　he　said　quickly；　〃of　all　wealth；　and　of　the　government。　　There
  would　be　no　governmentwe　should　not　need　it。　　A　little　courage　is　all
  that　is　necessary；　and　we　come　into　our　own。　　You　are　a　stenographer；　you
  say。　　But　youyou　are　not　content；　I　can　see　it　in　your　face；　in　your
  eyes。　　You　have　cause　to　hate　them；　too；　these　masters；　or　you　would　not
  have　been　herein　this　place；　to…day。　　Is　it　not　so？〃
  She　shivered；　but　was　silent。
  〃Is　it　not　so？〃　he　repeated。　　〃They　have　wronged　you；　too；　perhaps；they
  have　wronged　us　all；　but　some　are　too　stupid；　too　cowardly　to　fight　and
  crush　them。　　Christians　and　slaves　submit。　　The　old　religion　teaches　that
  the　world　is　cruel　for　most　of　us；　but　if　we　are　obedient　and　humble　we
  shall　be　rewarded　in　heaven。〃　Rolfe　laughed。　　〃The　masters　approve　of
  that　teaching。　　They　would　not　have　it　changed。　　But　for　us　it　is　war。
  We'll　strike　and　keep　on　striking；　we'll　break　their　machinery；　spoil
  their　mills　and　factories；　and　drive　them　out。　　And　even　if　we　do　not　win
  at　once；　it　is　better　to　suffer　and　die　fighting　than　to　have　the　life
  ground　out　of　usis　it　not？〃
  〃Yes；　it　is　better！〃　she　agreed。　　The　passion　in　her　voice　did　not　escape
  him。
  〃Some　day；　perhaps　sooner　than　we　think；　we　shall　have　the　true
  Armageddon；　the　general　strike；　when　the　last　sleeping　toiler　shall　have
  aroused　himself　from　his　lethargy　to　rise　up　and　come　into　his
  inheritance。〃　　He　seemed　to　detach　himself　from　her；　his　eyes　became　more
  luminous。
  〃‘Like　unseen　music　in　the　night；'so　Sorel　writes　about　it。　　They　may
  scoff　at　it；　the　wise　ones；　but　it　will　come。　　‘Like　music　in　the　night！'
  You　respond　to　that！〃
  Again　she　was　silent。　　They　had　walked　on；　through　familiar　streets　that
  now　seemed　strange。
  〃You　respondI　can　tell；〃　he　said。　　〃And　yet；　you　are　not　like　these
  others；　like　me；　even。　　You　are　an　American。　　And　yet　you　are　not　like
  most　of　your　countrywomen。〃
  〃Why　do　you　say　that？〃
  〃I　will　tell　you。　　Because　they　are　cold；　most　of　them；　and　trivial；　they
  do　not　feel。　　But　youyou　can　feel；　you　can　love　and　hate。　　You　look
  calm　and　cold；　but　you　are　notI　knew　it　when　I　looked　at　you；　when　you
  came　up　to　me。〃
  She　did　not　know　whether　to　resent　or　welcome　his　clairvoyance；　his
  assumption　of　intimacy；　his　air　of　appropriation。　　But　her　curiosity　was
  tingling。
  〃And　you？〃　she　asked。　　〃Your　name　is　Rolfe；　isn't　it？〃
  He　assented。　　〃And　yours？〃
  She　told　him。
  〃You　have　been　in　America　longyour　family？〃
  〃Very　long；〃　she　said。　　〃But　you　speak　Italian；　and　Rolfe　isn't　an
  Italian　name。〃
  〃My　father　was　an　Englishman；　an　artist；　who　lived　in　Italymy　mother　a
  peasant　woman　from　Lombardy；　such　as　these　who　come　to　work　in　the　mills。
  When　she　was　young　she　was　beautifullike　a　Madonna　by　an　old　master。〃
  〃An　old　master？〃
  〃The　old　masters　are　the　great　painters　who　lived　in　Italy　four　hundred
  years　ago。　　I　was　named　after　one　of　themthe　greatest。　　I　am　called
  Leonard。　　He　was　Leonardo　da　Vinci。〃
  The　name；　as　Rolfe　pronounced　it；　stirred　her。　　And　art；　painting！　　It
  was　a　realm　unknown　to　her；　and　yet　the　very　suggestion　of　it　evoked
  yearnings。　　And　she　recalled　a　picture　in　the　window　of　Hartmann's　book…
  store；　a　coloured　print　before　which　she　used　to　stop　on　her　way　to　and
  from　the　office；　the　copy　of　a　landscape　by　a　California　artist。　　The
  steep　hillside　in　the　foreground　was　spread　with　the　misty　green　of　olive
  trees；　and　beyondfar　beyonda　snow…covered　peak；　like　some　high　altar；
  flamed　red　in　the　sunset。　　She　had　not　been　able　to　express　her　feeling
  for　this　picture；　it　had　filled　her　with　joy　and　sadness。　　Once　she　had
  ventured　to　enter　and　ask　its　priceten　dollars。　　And　then　came　a
  morning　when　she　had　looked　for　it；　and　it　was　gone。
  〃And　your　fatherdid　he　paint　beautiful　pictures；　too？〃
  〃Ah；　he　was　too　much　of　a　socialist。　　He　was　always　away　whey　I　was　a
  child；　and　after　my　mother's　death　he　used　to　take　me　with　him。　　When　I
  was　seventeen　we　went　to　Milan　to　take　part　in　the　great　strike；　and
  there　I　saw　the　soldiers　shooting　down　the　workers　by　the　hundreds；
  putting　them　in　prison　by　the　thousands。　　Then　I　went　to　live　in　England；
  among　the　socialists　there；　and　I　learned　the　printer's　trade。　　When　I
  first　came　to　this　country　I　was　on　a　labour　paper　in　New　York；　I　set　up
  type；　I　wrote　articles；　and　once　in　a　while　I　addressed　meetings　on　the
  East　Side。　　But　even　before　I　left　London　I　had　read　a　book　on
  Syndicalism　by　one　of　the　great　Frenchme