``Gracious!'' exclaimed Jane. ``But you ARE healthy.''

The smile took full advantage of the opportunity to broaden into
a laugh. A most flattering expression of frank, childlike
admiration came into the dark gray eyes. ``You're not sickly,
yourself,'' replied Selma. Jane was disappointed that the voice
was not untamed Cossack, but was musically civilized.

``Yes, but I don't flaunt it as you do,'' rejoined Jane. ``You'd
make anyone who was the least bit off, furious.''

Selma, still with the child-like expression, but now one of
curiosity, was examining Jane's masculine riding dress. ``What a
sensible suit!'' she cried, delightedly. ``I'd wear something
like that all the time, if I dared.''

``Dared?'' said Jane. ``You don't look like the frightened
sort.''

``Not on account of myself,'' explained Selma. ``On account of
the cause. You see, we are fighting for a new idea. So, we have
to be careful not to offend people's prejudices about ideas not
so important. If we went in for everything that's sensible, we'd
be regarded as cranks. One thing at a time.''

Jane's glance shifted to the fourth picture. ``Didn't you say
that was--Karl Marx?''

``Yes.''