“Judge ... Mark ... Pfennig,” she repeated slowly. “He’s a Jew,” Clara said groping. She won courage from the soft distance in Fanny’s eyes, inquiring, pondering. “Like most of ’em. They’re the best, Fan. Really.” “Why are they the best?” “They’re the wisest ... and the gentlest. They’re hardest and softest. Wait till you see Abe Mangel with Tess. He treats her like a father. Like a sentimental father. Those old puffy eyes of his with little ridges of flesh beneath ’em--just like her Dad in Carolina, I bet. Only _wise_.” “You say he’s a _gambler_?” “Well, not really. Never plays. Not he! He owns a big joint, that’s all.” “And ... Susan’s----“ “Silly! Gambling’s against the Law. You know that, don’t you? Well, what does that mean? Any respectable Gambler who wants to make a ‘go’ must have a side partner on the Force.” “O--I see.” “You’ll see, all right. But you don’t now. You’re shocked. When one’s shocked one don’t see. I found that out. Bein’ shocked is the same as bein’ blind.... Fanny: do you really want to meet them?” Fanny pondered: her head low, her eyes fallen upon her lacing and unlacing fingers. Tessie and Susan and Clara....--She has saved me ... for what?... were in her pondering eyes. She saw Clara always.--What do I see of Clara? what know? And what of Tessie, Susan? She saw them often, they came often now. They sat there, quiet, proper, eyes veiled.... Hurt eyes. Fanny thought of Stride the Kentucky colt whom she had gentled when she was a girl. They were good friends. Stride knew her, knew that she would not hurt her, knew that she cared for her wisely. Stride knew, standing there aquiver while she came toward her bringing a handful of oats, that oats were good. Yet beneath the knowing in Stride’s eyes at times a deeper world looked out on Fanny: a world of strangeness, of the expectancy of harm. So now....--They love me. That first time showed. Even Susan in her secret way. Yet they are so still! so far! I do not touch them. Never had she touched Stride. Never. Now? Sudden the thought came:--There is a part of them, a whole dimension I can not see! She wanted to see it....--Their men? --Sisters! why do I call you so? I want to touch you. That I may know perhaps why we are sisters? Fanny’s hands went up, and her head. Brightly: “Yes! Give the party. Do! Ask everyone....” There was something Clara, standing there, wondering for her answer, understood. She took Fanny’s hands and clasped them close in her own. She kissed them. _SIX_ PAVEMENT BROKEN At last the bell rang the door opened, Clara’s man came in. Clara got up and they shook hands. Fanny was aware in the long strain of waiting that her power to feel was gone.--I shall understand nothing. “This is my friend, Mark. Fanny, Mr. Mark.”