ke!" she exclaimed; suddenly enlightened. "Now I
remember! You said something about Hampton being nitro-glycerine--human
nitro-glycerine. You predicted this strike."

"Did I? perhaps I did," he assented. "Maybe you suggested the idea."

"I suggested it! Oh no, I didn't--it was new to me, it frightened me at
the time, but it started me thinking about a lot of things that had never
occurred to me."

"You might have suggested the idea without intending to, you know. There
are certain people who inspire prophecies--perhaps you are one."

His tone was playful, but she was quick to grasp at an inference--since
his glance was fixed on the red button she wore.

"You meant that I would explode, too!"

"Oh no--nothing so terrible as that," he disclaimed. "And yet most of us
have explosives stored away inside of us--instincts, impulses and all
that sort of thing that won't stand too much bottling-up."

"Yes, I've joined the strike." She spoke somewhat challengingly, though
she had an uneasy feeling that defiance was somewhat out of place with
him. "I suppose you think it strange, since I'm not a foreigner and
haven't worked in the mills. But I don't see why that should make any
difference if you believe that the workers haven't had a chance."

"No difference," he agreed, pleasantly, "no difference at all."

"Don't you sympathize with the strikers?" she insisted. "Or--are you on
the other side, the side of the capitalists?"

"I? I'm a spectator--an innocent bystander."

"You don't sympathize with the workers?" she cried.

"Indeed I do. I sympathize with everybody."

"With the capitalists?"

"Why not?"

"Why not? Because they've had everything their own way, they've exploited
the workers, deceived and oppressed them, taken all the profits." She was
using glibly her newly acquired labour terminology.

"Isn't that a pretty good reason for sympathizing with them?" he
inquired.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I should think it might be difficult to be happy and have done all
that. At any rate, it isn't my notion of happiness. Is it yours?"

For a moment she considered this.

"No--not exactly," she admitted. "But they seem happy," she insisted
vehemently, "they have everything they want and they do exactly as they
please without considering anybody except themselves. What do they care
how many they starve and make miserable? You--you don't know, you can't
know what it is to be driven and used and flung away!"

Almo