New York?"

There was a sudden gleam in the woman's eyes. She extended her hands
quickly in unmistakable appeal. Then swiftly she caught up a hymn
book, tore at its fly-leaf, and made the movement of writing. In an
instant St. George had thrust a pencil in her hand and she was
tracing something.

He waited feverishly. The organ had droned through the hymn and the
women broke into song, with loose lips and without restraint, as
street boys sing. He saw them casting curious, sullen glances, and
the Readers' Guild whispering among themselves. Miss Bella Bliss
Utter, looking as distressed as a nut can look, nodded, and Mrs.
Manners shook her head and they meant the same thing. Then St.
George saw the attendant in the red waist descend from the platform
and make her way toward him, the little American flag rising and
falling on her breast. He unhesitatingly stepped in the aisle to
meet her, determined to prevent, if possible, her suspicion of the
message. "Is it the barbarism of a gentleman," Amory had once
propounded, "or is it the gentleman-like manners of a barbarian
which makes both enjoy over-stepping a prohibition?"

"I compliment you," St. George said gravely, with his deferential
stooping of the shoulders. "The women are perfectly trained. This,
of course, is due to you."

The hard face of the woman softened, but St. George thought that one
might call her very facial expression nasal; she smiled with evident
pleasure, though her purpose remained unshaken.