The girl at her side was speaking again.
"You've no idea what this strike means. There's some rich women interested in it—they work right with us, hold mass-meetings, march in the streets—they're wonderful. And some of the big labor-leaders and even some of the big lawyers are helping. There's one big lawyer been giving all his time. You see, we're having trouble with the police."
"Yes, I see," said Myra, though she didn't see at all, and neither did she care. It seemed to her that she could not wait another instant. She must either go, or step over to his desk.
"Is he still so busy?" she asked.
"Yes, he is," said the girl. "Do you know him personally?"
Myra laughed softly.
"A little."
"Then you heard how he was hurt?"
"Hurt!" gasped Myra. Her heart seemed to grow small, and it was pierced by a sharp needle of pain.
"Yes, there was a riot here—the men came in and smashed everything."