Said Mary, hesitatingly: “My car is outside—”
He answered: “In ancient days I saw the young patricians drive through the streets in their chariots; no, I shall not ride with them again.”
Said I: “I have an apartment at the club, with plenty of room—”
“No, no, friend. I have seen enough of the masters of this city. From now on, if you want to see me, you will find me among the poor.”
“If I may meet you in the morning,” I said—“to show you to the Labor Temple—” Yes, I would see him through!
“By all means,” said he. “But you must come early, for I cannot delay.”
“Where shall I come?”
“Come here. I am sure these people will give me shelter.” He looked about him. “I suspect that some of them sleep in this room; but they have a little porch outside, and if they will let me stay there I shall be alone, which is what I want now.” After a moment, he added, “What I wish to do is to pray. Have you ever tried prayer, Mary?”
She answered, simply, “I wouldn't know how.”
“Come to me, and I will teach you,” he said.