he top, straining and
struggling to lift the trap door. It was not to be stirred, however,
and when the woman shouted up to unhook it, he answered: "It's already
unhooked. There's somebody sitting on it!"

And a moment later came a voice from downstairs: "You might as well
quit, you people. We mean business, this time."

So the crowd subsided; and a few moments later several policemen came
up, staring here and there, and leering at their victims. Of the latter
the men were for the most part frightened and sheepish-looking. The
women took it as a joke, as if they were used to it--though if they had
been pale, one could not have told, for the paint on their cheeks. One
black-eyed young girl perched herself upon the top of the balustrade,
and began to kick with her slippered foot at the helmets of the
policemen, until one of them caught her by the ankle and pulled her
down. On the floor below four or five other girls sat upon trunks in the
hall, making fun of the procession which filed by them. They were noisy
and hilarious, and had evidently been drinking; one of them, who wore a
bright red kimono, shouted and screamed in a voice that drowned out all
the other sounds in the hall--and Jurgis took a glance at her, and then
gave a start, and a cry, "Marija!"

She heard him, and glanced around; then she shrank back and half sprang
to her feet in amazement. "Jurgis!" she gasped.

For a second or two they stood staring at each other. "How did you come
here?" Marija exclaimed.

"I came to see you," he answered.

"When?"

"Just now."

"But how did you know--who told you I was here?"

"Alena Jasaityte. I met her on the street."

Again there was a silence, while they gazed at each other. The rest of
the crowd was watching them, and so Marija got up and came closer to
him. "And you?" Jurgis asked. "You live here?"

"Yes," said Marija, "I live here." Then suddenly came a hail from below:
"Get your clothes on now, girls, and come along. You'd best begin, or
you'll be sorry--it's raining outside."

"Br-r-r!" shivered some one, and the women got up and entered the
various doors which lined the hallway.

"Come," said Marija, and took Jurgis into her room, which was a tiny
place about eight by six, with a cot and a chair and a dressing stand
and some dresses hanging behind the door. There were clothes scattered
about on the floor, and hopeless confusion everywhere--boxes of rouge
and bottles of perfume mixed with hats and