“Well, what do you think of the Ironworks Row?” asked Billy, at about seven o’clock, when the other men had gone off to the conference, and Susan was helping Mrs. Cudahy in the kitchen.

“Oh, I like it!” Susan assured him, enthusiastically.  “Only,” she added in a lowered tone, with a glance toward Mrs. Cudahy, who was out in the yard talking to Lizzie, “only I prefer the Rassette establishment to any I’ve seen!”

“The Rassettes,” he told her, significantly, “are trained for their work; she just as much as he is!  Do you wonder I think it’s worth while to educate people like that?”

“But Billy—­everyone seems so comfortable.  The Cudahys, now,—­why, this dinner was fit for a king—­if it had been served a little differently!”

“Oh, Clem’s a rich man, as these men go,” Billy said.  “He’s got two flats he rents, and he’s got stock!  And they’ve three married sons, all prosperous.”

“Well, then, why do they live here?”

“Why wouldn’t they?  You think that it’s far from clubs and shops and theaters and libraries, but they don’t care for these things.  They’ve never had time for them, they’ve never had time to garden, or go to clubs, and consequently they don’t miss them.  But some day, Sue,” said Billy, with a darkening face, “some day, when these people have the assurance that their old age is to be protected and when they have easier hours, and can get home in daylight, then you’ll see a change in laborers’ houses!”

“And just what has a strike like this to do with that, Billy?” said Susan, resting her cheek on her broom handle.

“Oh, it’s organization; it’s recognition of rights; it’s the beginning!” he said.  “We have to stand before we can walk!”

“Here, don’t do that!” said Mrs. Cudahy, coming in to take away the broom.  “Take her for a walk, Billy,” said she, “and show her the neighborhood.”  She laid a heavy hand on his shoulder.  “Now, don’t ye worry about the men coming back,” said she kindly, “they’ll be back fast enough, and wid good news, too!”

“I’m going to stay overnight with Mrs. Cudahy,” said Susan, as they walked away.

“You are!” he stopped short, in amazement.

“Yes, I am I” Susan returned his smile with another.  “I could no more go home now than after the first act of a play!” she confessed.

“Isn’t it damned interesting?” he said, walking on.

“Why, yes,” she said.  “It’s real at last—­it’s the realest thing I ever saw in my life!  Everything’s right on the surface, and all kept within certain boundaries.  In other places, people come and go in your lives.  Here, everybody’s your neighbor.  I like it!  It could be perfect; just fancy if the Carrolls had one house, and you another, and I a third, and Phil and his wife a fourth—­wouldn’t it be like children playing house!  And there’s another thing about it, Billy,” Susan went on enthusiastically, “it’s honest!  These people are really worried about shoes and rent and jobs—­there’s no money here to keep them from feeling everything!  Think what a farce a strike would be if every man in it had lots of money!  People with money can’t get the taste of really living!”