wn,
differing strongly from the surrounding houses: it might have been
transported from a foreign country and set down here. As the home of
that odd, cooperative society of thrifty and gregarious Belgians it
had stimulated her imagination, and once before she had gazed, as now,
through the yellowed, lantern-like windows of the little store at
the women and children waiting to fill their baskets with the day's
provisions. In the middle of the building was an entrance leading up to
the second floor. Presently she gathered the courage to enter. Her heart
was pounding as she climbed the dark stairs and thrust open the door,
and she stood a moment on the threshold almost choked by the fumes of
tobacco, bewildered by the scene within, confused by the noise. Through
a haze of smoke she beheld groups of swarthy foreigners fiercely
disputing among themselves--apparently on the verge of actual combat,
while a sprinkling of silent spectators of both sexes stood at the back
of the hall. At the far end was a stage, still set with painted, sylvan
scenery, and seated there, alone, above the confusion and the strife,
with a calmness, a detachment almost disconcerting, was a stout man with
long hair and a loose black tie. He was smoking a cigar and reading a
newspaper which he presently flung down, taking up another from a
pile on the table beside him. Suddenly one of the groups, shouting
and gesticulating, surged toward him and made an appeal through their
interpreter. He did not appear to be listening; without so much as
lowering his newspaper he spoke a few words in reply, and the group
retired, satisfied. By some incomprehensible power he dominated.
Panting, fascinated, loath to leave yet fearful, Janet watched him,
breathing now deeply this atmosphere of smoke, of strife, and turmoil.
She found it grateful, for the strike, the battle was in her own soul as
well. Momentarily she had forgotten Rolfe, who had been in her mind as
she had come hither, and then she caught sight of him in a group in the
centre of the hall. He saw her, he was making his way toward her, he
was holding her hands, looking down into her face with that air of
appropriation, of possession she remembered. But she felt no resentment
now, only a fierce exultation at having dared.

"You've come to join us!" he exclaimed. "I thought I'd lost you."

He bent closer to her that she might hear.

"We are having a meeting of the Committee," he said, and she smiled.
Desp