an't tell what it looks like, even--"

"Well, at least I'll have seen it. Do give me my way about this.
_You'll_ enjoy it ..."

And leaning forward on that, she said to his hired driver: "Take us to
Seventeenth and Canal Streets."

The shadow of disapprobation did not lift from Hugo's face.

"I had no idea," he said, boredly and somewhat stiffly, "that you took
your new-thought so seriously."

Cally laughed brightly. "But then you never think women are serious,
Hugo."

It was on the tip of her tongue to add: "Until it's too late." But she
held that back, as being too pointedly reminiscent.

XXVIII

A Little Visit to the Birthplace of the Family; how Cally
thinks Socialism and almost faints, and Hugo's Afternoon of
Romance ends Short in the Middle.

The car came to a standstill, and Cally was reminded of another
afternoon, long ago, when she and Hen Cooney had encountered Mr. V.V.
upon this humming corner. This time, she knew which way to look.

"There it is.... Confess, Hugo, you're surprised that it's so _small_!"

But Hugo helped no new-thoughter to belittle honest business.

"Unlike some I could mention, I've seen factories before," quoth he.
"I've seen a million dollar business done in a smaller plant than that."

Actually Cally found the Works bigger than she had expected; reaction
from the childish marble palace idea had swung her mind's eye too far.
But gazing at the weather-worn old pile, spilling dirtily over the
broken sidewalk, she was once more struck and depressed by something
almost sinister about it, something vaguely foreboding. To her
imagination it was a little as if the ramshackle old pile leered at her:
"Wash your hands of me if you will, young lady. I mean you harm
some day...."

But then, of course, she wasn't washing her hands of it; her hands had
never been in it at all.

"You'll get intensely interested and want to stay hours!" said she, with
the loud roar of traffic in her ears. "Remember I only came for a
peep--just to see what a Works is like inside."

Hugo, guiding her over the littered sidewalk to the shabby little door
marked "Office," swore that she could not make her peep too brief
for him.

She had considered the possibility of encountering her father here; had
seen the difficulties of attributing this foray to Hugo's insatiable
interest in commerce, with Hugo standing right there. However, in the
very unpretentious offices inside--desol