the Camorra; they are
the penniless who would slay and rob; the landless who would kill and
seize; the ignorant, nursing suspicion; the shiftless, brooding crimes
to bring them riches quickly.

"And, Palla, your Law of Love and Service is good. But not for
these."

"What law for them, then?"

"Education. Maybe with machine guns."

Palla shook her head. "Is that the way to educate defectives?"

"When they come at you _en masse_, yes!"

Palla laughed. "Dear," she said, "there is no nation-wide Terrorist
plot. These mental defectives are not in mass anywhere in America."

"They are in dangerous groups everywhere. And every group is devoting
its cunning to turning the working masses into a vast mob of the Black
Hundred! They did it in Russia. They are working for it all over the
world. You do not believe it?"

"No, I don't, Ilse."

"Very well. You shall come with me this evening. Are you busy?"

The thought of Jim glimmered in her mind. He might feel aggrieved. But
he ought to begin to realise that he couldn't be with her every
evening.

"No, I haven't any plans, Ilse," she said, "no definite engagement, I
mean. Will you dine at home with me?"

"Early, then. Because there is a meeting which you and I shall attend.
It is an education."

"An anarchist meeting?"

"Yes, Reds. I think we should go--perhaps take part----"

"What?"

"Why not? I shall not listen to lies and remain silent!" said Ilse,
laughing. "The Revolution was good. But the Bolsheviki are nothing but
greedy thieves and murderers. You and I know that. If anybody teaches
people the contrary, I certainly shall have something to say."

Palla desired to purchase silk for sofa pillows, having acquired a
chaise-longue for her bedroom.

So she and Ilse went out into the sunshine and multi-coloured crowd;
and all the afternoon they shopped very blissfully--which meant, also,
lingering before store windows, drifting into picture-galleries,
taking tea at Sherry's, and finally setting out for home through a
beflagged avenue jammed with traffic.

Dusk fell early but the drooping, orange-tinted globes which had
replaced the white ones on the Fifth Avenue lamps were not yet
lighted; and there still remained a touch of sunset in the sky when
they left the bus.

At the corner of Palla's street, there seemed to be an unusual
congestion, and now, above the noise of traffic, they caught the sound
of a band; and turned at the curb to see, supposing it to