"But you must have some communication with the outer world?" puzzled Viola. "We saw the trains and the passengers at the ferry. And where do all these things come from that we see in the stores?"
"My dear, we have many local trains, of course, but the interstate commerce is entirely in the hands of Penn Service. Our laborers here manufacture certain articles; our farmers raise certain produce. These things are turned over to the Service who reserve a share to themselves for expense. Then they exchange it outside the boundaries; but it is all done by the secret agents and I have never bothered my head about it. The matter is outside the province of my administration."
"How long has this sort of thing gone on?" persisted Drayton.
"My dear sir, and all of you, why will you ask such absurd and impossible questions? Can't you understand that we Philadelphians have no concern either with the past or with anything outside our own boundaries? The law says, let every good citizen live his own life. It is forbidden that he should do more than that."
"Do you mean to tell us," gasped the lawyer, "that you know nothing of this city's history?"
"Certainly I mean that. Most of these people that you see would not understand your meaning should you ask them such a question. I was educated privately by one of the Servants of Penn." She said it as one might boast of having been brought up by the King of England in person. "I am able to converse intelligently, I hope, on any reasonable subject. But even I never received such absurdly needless instruction as that."
"But what are the children taught in your schools?"
"The natural, useful things. Cooking, carpentry, weaving-all the necessary trades. What use would any more be to them? It would only make them dissatisfied, and goodness knows they are already dissatisfied and ungrateful enough!"
"Well," sighed Trenmore, "whoever has done these things to your people has certainly hit a new low in autocratic government."
Half playfully, she shook her head at him.