Opposite and at some distance across the roofs of lower buildings, the

girls saw a tall edifice, the long upper story of which seemed to be a

dancing hall. The windows of that were also open, and through them they

heard the scream of the jiggered and tortured violin, and the pump, pump

of the oboe, and saw the moving shapes of men and women in quick

transition, and heard the prompter's drawl.

"I wonder," said Ruth, "what the girls dancing there would think if they

saw us, or knew that there was such a room as this so near them."

She did not speak very loud, and, perhaps unconsciously, the girls drew

near to each other as they approached the long table in the centre of the

room. A straight object lay upon it, covered with a sheet. This was

doubtless "the new one" of which the janitor spoke. Ruth advanced, and

with a not very steady hand lifted the white covering from the upper part

of the figure and turned it down. Both the girls started. It was a

negro. The black face seemed to defy the pallor of death, and asserted

an ugly life-likeness that was frightful.

Ruth was as pale as the white sheet, and her comrade whispered, "Come

away, Ruth, it is awful."

Perhaps it was the wavering light of the candles, perhaps it was only the

agony from a death of pain, but the repulsive black face seemed to wear a

scowl that said, "Haven't you yet done with the outcast, persecuted black

165

The Gilded Age