When finally they were settled in New York and sat high up on the Fifth Avenue front of the hotel, gradually the inarticulate questioning found words, albeit strange ones.
"It reminds me of the swamp," she said.
Mrs. Vanderpool, just returned from a shopping tour, burst into laughter.
"It is—but I marvel at your penetration."
"I mean, it is moving—always moving."
"The swamp seemed to me unearthly still."
"Yes—yes," cried Zora, eagerly, brushing back the rumpled hair; "and so did the city, at first, to me."
"Still! New York?"
"Yes. You see, I saw the buildings and forgot the men; and the buildings were so tall and silent against Heaven. And then I came to see the people, and suddenly I knew the city was like the swamp, always restless and changing."
"And more beautiful?" suggested Mrs. Vanderpool, slipping her arms into her lounging-robe.