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But the smoke and
ore from the mill had long ago turned it to bareness, had killed
the trees and shrubbery, and filled the little hollows where once
the first arbutus had hidden with cinders and ore dust. The path
had become a crooked street, lined with wooden houses, and paved
with worn and broken bricks.
Where once Herman Klein had carried his pail and whistled bits of
Shubert as he climbed along, a long line of blackened men made their
evening way. Untidy children sat on the curb, dogs lay in the
center of the road, and women in all stages of dishabille hung over
the high railings of their porches and watched for their men.
Under protest of giving her a lift up the hill, Rudolph slipped his
hand through Anna's left arm.
Immediately she knew that the movement was a pretext. She could
not free herself.
"Be good, now," he cautioned her. "I've got you. I want to see
that watch."
"You let me alone."
"I'm going to see that watch."
With his free hand he felt under her sleeve and drew down the
bracelet.


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