Etta shivered. She admired the courage, but it terrified her. "There's something--something--awful about you, Lorna," she said. "You've changed till you're like a different person from what you were when you came to the restaurant. Sometimes--that look in your eyes--well, it takes my breath away." "It takes _my_ breath away, too. Come on." At the foot of the hill they took the shortest route for Vine Street, the highway of the city's night life. Though they were so young and walked briskly, their impoverished blood was not vigorous enough to produce a reaction against the sharp wind of the zero night which nosed through their few thin garments and bit into their bodies as if they were naked. They came to a vast department store. Each of its great show-windows, flooded with light, was a fascinating display of clothing for women upon wax models--costly jackets and cloaks of wonderful furs, white, brown, gray, rich and glossy black; underclothes fine and soft, with ribbons and flounces and laces; silk stockings and graceful shoes and slippers; dresses for street, for ball, for afternoon, dresses with form, with lines, dresses elegantly plain, dresses richly embroidered. Despite the cold the two girls lingered, going from window to window, their freezing faces pinched and purple, their eyes gazing hungrily. "Now that we've tried 'em all on," said Susan with a short and bitter laugh, "let's dress in our dirty rags again and go." "Oh, I couldn't imagine myself in any of those things--could you?" cried Etta. "Yes," answered Susan. "And better." "You were brought up to have those things, I know." Susan shook her head. "But I'm going to have them." "When?" said Etta, scenting romance. "Soon?" "As soon as I learn," was Susan's absent, unsatisfactory reply. Etta had gone back to her own misery and the contrasts to it. "I get mad through and through," she cried, "when I think how all those things go to some women--women that never did work and never could. And they get them because they happen to belong to rich fathers and husbands or whoever protects them. It isn't fair! It makes me crazy!" Susan gave a disdainful shrug. "What's the use of that kind of talk!" said she. "No use at all. The thing is, _we_ haven't got what we want, and we've got to _get_ it--and so we've got to _learn_ how." "I can't think of anything but the cold," said Etta. "My God, how cold I am! There isn't anything I wouldn't do to get warm. There isn't anything anybody wouldn't do to get warm, if they were as cold as this. It's all very well for warm people to talk----" "Oh, I'm sick of all the lying and faking, anyhow. Do you believe in hell, Lorna?" "Not in a hot one," said Susan.