They stopped after a while, and Harold was standing at the open door of the cab with something steaming hot which he told her to drink. “You need it,” he said decisively, and thinking it would help her to tell it, she drank it down. The world was a little more defined after that, and she saw things which puzzled her. “Why, it looks like the city,” she whispered, her throat too sore now to speak aloud. “Why sure,” he replied banteringly; “don't you know we have to go through the city to get out to the South Side?” “Oh, but you see,” she cried, holding her throat, “but you see, it's the _other_ way!” “Not to-night,” he insisted; “the place for you to-night is home. I'm taking you where you belong.” She reached over wildly, trying to open the door, but he held her back; she began to cry, and he talked to her, gently but unbendingly. “But you don't _understand!_” she whispered, passionately. “I've _got_ to go!” “Not to-night,” he said again, and something in the way he said it made her finally huddle back in the corner of the carriage. Block after block, mile after mile, they rode on in silence. She felt overpowered. And with submission she knew that it was Z. For the whole city was piled in between. Great buildings were in between, and thousands of men running to and fro on the streets; man, and all man had builded up, were in between. And then Harold--Harold who had always seemed to count for so little, had come and taken her away. Dully, wretchedly--knowing that her heart would ache far worse to-morrow than it did to-night--she wondered about things. Did things like rain and street-cars and wet feet and a sore throat determine life? Was it that way with other people, too? Did other people have barriers--whole cities full of them--piled in between? And then did the Harolds come and take them where they said they belonged? Were there not _some_ people strong enough to go where they wanted to go? VI THE MAN OF FLESH AND BLOOD The elements without were not in harmony with the spirit which it was desired should be engendered within. By music, by gay decorations, by speeches from prominent men, the board in charge of the boys' reformatory was striving to throw about this dedication of the new building an atmosphere of cheerfulness and good-will--an atmosphere vibrant with the kindness and generosity which emanated from the State, and the thankfulness and loyalty which it was felt should emanate from the boys.