But the charge was ineffectual for their purpose. A throng of far
more resolute and more sinewy people swept them aside, and seized
every vacant place on the top of the vehicle. Only with much
struggle did they obtain places within. In an ordinary mood, Nancy
would have resented this hustling of her person by the profane
public; as it was, she half enjoyed the tumult, and looked forward
to get more of it along the packed streets, with a sense that she
might as well amuse herself in vulgar ways, since nothing better was
attainable. This did not, however, modify her contempt of Samuel
Barmby; it seemed never to have occurred to him that the
rough-and-tumble might be avoided, and time gained, by the simple
expedient of taking a cab.

Sitting opposite to Samuel, she avoided his persistent glances by
reading the rows of advertisements above his head. Somebody's
'Blue;' somebody's 'Soap;' somebody's 'High-class Jams;' and behold,
inserted between the Soap and the Jam--'God so loved the world,
that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whoso believeth in Him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.' Nancy perused the
passage without perception of incongruity, without emotion of any
kind. Her religion had long since fallen to pieces, and universal
defilement of Scriptural phrase by the associations of the
market-place had in this respect blunted her sensibilities.

Barmby was talking to Jessica Morgan. She caught his words now and
then.

'Can you tell me what is the smallest tree in the world?--No, it's
the Greenland birch. Its full-grown height is only three inches--
positively! But it spreads over several feet.'