enes would make--big black engines throwing up
clouds of smoke and steam in a grey, wet air; great mazes of
parti-colored cars dank in the rain but lovely. At night the switch
lights in these great masses of yards bloomed like flowers. He loved the
sheer yellows, reds, greens, blues, that burned like eyes. Here was the
stuff that touched him magnificently, and somehow he was glad that this
raw flowering girl lived near something like this.

When he reached the door and rang the bell he was greeted by an old
shaky Irish-American who seemed to him rather low in the scale of
intelligence--the kind of a man who would make a good crossing guard,
perhaps. He had on common, characterful clothes, the kind that from long
wear have taken the natural outlines of the body. In his fingers was a
short pipe which he had been smoking.

"Is Miss Kenny in?" Eugene inquired.

"Yus," said the man. "Come in. I'll git her." He poked back through a
typical workingman's parlor to a rear room. Someone had seen to it that
almost everything in the room was red--the big silk-shaded lamp, the
family album, the carpet and the red flowered wall paper.

While he was waiting he opened the album and looked at what he supposed
were her relatives--commonplace people, all--clerks, salesmen,
store-keepers. Presently Ruby came, and then his eye lighted, for there
was about her a smartness of youth--she was not more than
nineteen--which captivated his fancy. She had on a black cashmere dress
with touches of red velvet at the neck and elsewhere, and she wore a
loose red tie, much as a boy might. She looked gay and cheerful and held
out her hand.

"Did you have much trouble in getting here?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I know this country pretty well. I collect all
through here week days. I work for the Peoples' Furniture Company, you
know."

"Oh, then it's all right," she said, enjoying his frankness. "I thought
you'd have a hard time finding it. It's a pretty bad day, isn't it?"

Eugene admitted that it was, but commented on the car tracks he had
seen. "If I could paint at all I'd like to paint those things. They're
so big and wonderful."

He went to the window and gazed out at the neighborhood.

Ruby watched him with interest. His movements were pleasing to her. She
felt at home in his company--as though she were going to like him very
much. It was so easy to talk to him. There were the classes, her studio
work, his own career, this neighborh