She waited till she heard her father's well-known snore seesawing
through the panels. Then she went to the window again to gaze her
fill at the town. She fell in love with it and told it so. She vowed
that she would never leave it. She had not come to a strange city;
she had just reached home.

She leaned far out across the ledge to look down at the tremendously
inferior street. She nearly pitched head foremost and scrambled back,
but with a giggle of bliss at the excitement. She stared at the dark
buildings of various heights before her. There was something
awe-inspiring about them.

Across a space of roofs was the electric sign of an electric company,
partly hidden by buildings. All Kedzie could see of it was the huge
phrase LIGHT--HEAT--POWER. She thought that those three graces would
make an excellent motto.

She could see across and down into the well of the Grand Central
Terminal. On its front was some enormous winged figure facing down
the street. She did not know who it was or what street it was. She
did not know any of the streets by name, but she wanted to. She had
a passionate longing for streets.

Farther south or north, east or west, or whichever way it was,
was a tall building with glowing bulbs looped like the strings
of evergreen she had helped to drape the home church with at
Christmas-time. Here it was Christmas every day--all holidays
in one.