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194 "Steve, I'm in no mood for pleasantries this morning. I want to be let alone."

"Where are you going?"

"It would not be profitable for you to know."

He looked at her curiously for a moment before speaking again. Finally he said:

"They gave your preacher a slap in the face last night."

"Yes. What are you going to do about it?"

"Nothing. It's none of my business."

"It's the business of every fair and decent man in this city."

He bit his lip, but he did not reply in kind. He simply asked, for the third time:

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to see Mr. Farrar."

"What for?"

"To offer him my sympathy—and help."

"You're going on a fool's errand."

She did not resent the remark. She said quietly:

"It may be, but—I'm going."

"Mary, I don't approve of it."

"I'm not concerned about your approval."

"Have I no rights whatever?"

"None that interfere with my duties."

He made no further attempt to dissuade her. He knew how utterly useless it would be. He contented himself with saying:

"There'll be no peace in this city till that man is a thousand miles away."

And she replied: "It's war that this city needs, not peace."

He stood on the corner and watched her out of sight, but he made no attempt to follow her. That would have been rash and futile.

Threading her way along the busy thoroughfare, she passed through the heart of the city and turned into a cross street. At the end of the second block she was