r
were less disquieting, his intellectual fascination was enhanced: and in
that very emancipation from cant and convention, characteristic of
the Order to which he belonged, had lain much of his charm. She had
attracted him as a woman, there was no denying that. He, who had studied
and travelled and known life in many lands, had discerned in her,
Janet Bumpus, some quality to make him desire her, acknowledge her as
a comrade! Tremblingly she exulted in the possession of that
quality--whatever it might be. Ditmar, too, had perceived it! He had
not known how to value it. With this thought came a flaming
suggestion--Ditmar should see her with this man Rolfe, she would make
him scorch with the fires of jealousy. Ditmar should know that she had
joined his enemies, the Industrial Workers of the World. Of the world!
Her shackles had been cast off at last!... And then, suddenly, she
felt tired. The prospect of returning to Fillmore Street, to the silent
flat--made the more silent by her mother's tragic presence--overwhelmed
her. The ache in her heart began to throb again. How could she wait
until the dawn of another day?...

In the black hours of the morning, with the siren dinning in her ears a
hoarse call to war, Janet leaped from her bed and began to dress. There
is a degree of cold so sharp that it seems actually to smell, and as she
stole down the stairs and out of the door she shivered, assailed by
a sense of loneliness and fear. Yet an insistent voice urged her on,
whispering that to remain at home, inactive, was to go mad; salvation
and relief lay in plunging into the struggle, in contributing her share
toward retribution and victory. Victory! In Faber Street the light
of the electric arcs tinged the snow with blue, and the flamboyant
advertisements of breakfast foods, cigarettes and ales seemed but
the mockery of an activity now unrealizable. The groups and figures
scattered here and there farther down the street served only to
exaggerate its wide emptiness. What could these do, what could she
accomplish against the mighty power of the mills? Gradually, as she
stood gazing, she became aware of a beating of feet upon the snow; over
her shoulder she caught the gleam of steel. A squad of soldiers muffled
in heavy capes and woolen caps was marching along the car-tracks. She
followed them. At the corner of West Street, in obedience to a sharp
command she saw them halt, turn, and advance toward a small crowd
gathered there.