him."

"I'm sure I shall," she replied.

Rolfe took from his pocket a little red button with the letters I.W.W.
printed across it. He pinned it, caressingly, on her coat.

"Now you are one of us!" he exclaimed. "You'll come to-morrow?"

"I'll come to-morrow," she repeated, drawing away from him a little.

"And--we shall be friends?"

She nodded. "I must go now, I think."

"Addio!" he said. "I shall look for you. For the present I must remain
here, with the Committee."

When Janet reached Faber Street she halted on the corner of Stanley to
stare into the window of the glorified drugstore. But she gave no heed to
the stationery, the cameras and candy displayed there, being in the
emotional state that reduces to unreality objects of the commonplace,
everyday world. Presently, however, she became aware of a man standing
beside her.

"Haven't we met before?" he asked. "Or--can I be mistaken?"

Some oddly familiar quizzical note in his voice stirred, as she turned to
him, a lapsed memory. The hawklike yet benevolent and illuminating look
he gave her recalled the man at Silliston whom she had thought a