"I'm going to make my mark," Martin said. "I'm going to make
something that will last. My father's name was Martin Gray, and I'll
make it MEAN some thing out there for his sake."

"And I," said Joan, springing to her feet and throwing up her chin,
"will go joy-riding in the huge round-about. I've seen what it is to
be old and useless, and so I shall make the most of every day and
hour while I'm young. I can live only once, and so I shall make life
spin whatever way I want it to go. If I can get anybody to pay my
whack, good. If not, I'll pay it myself--whatever it costs. My
motto's going to be a good time as long as I can get it, and who
cares for the price?"

The boy followed her to the window, and the moonlight fell upon them
both. "Yes," he said, "you'll get a bill, all right. How did you
know that?"

"I haven't lived with all those old people so long for nothing," she
answered. "But you won't catch me grumbling if I get half as much as
I'm going out for. Listen to my creed, Martin, and take notes, if
you want to keep up with me."

"Go ahead," he said, watching the sparkle in her eyes.

She squared her shoulders and folded her arms in a half-defiant way.
"I shall open the door of every known Blue Room--hurrying out again
if there are ugly things inside, staying to enjoy them if they're
good to look at. I shall taste a little of every known bottle, feel
everything there is to feel except the thing that hurts, laugh with
any one whose laugh is catching, do everything there is to do, go