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Independence.”
    “And then to Santa Fe?”
    “That’s right. I have a partner in Los Angeles, an American named John Ives. He’ll bring our goods from California to Santa Fe, and we’ll go on to California with the mule-train.”
    Garnet picked up the tongs and reached toward the coal-scuttle.
    “Let me do that,” said Oliver. Scrambling to his feet, he came over and took the tongs from her hand.
    “Isn’t it a mighty dangerous journey?” Garnet asked. “Aren’t there Indians out there on the plains, and cannibals, and—all sorts of things?”
    “There are Indians, of course. I don’t think any of them are cannibals. It’s dangerous, but we’re very well armed. The caravans always get through.”
    Garnet’s throat felt suddenly tight. As Oliver set down the tongs, she exclaimed,
    “Oh, I do envy you so!”
    “Do you, Garnet?” he asked. He was looking at her intently. It was the first time he had ever called her by her first name, but she hardly noticed it.
    “Why shouldn’t I?” she answered. “You go to those gorgeous places, so beautiful and so full of adventure, and I just do the same things everybody else does. I practice my music and buy dress-patterns at Stewart’s and go to plays at the Park Theater. In the summer, while you’re on the trails West, I’m at Rockaway Beach!”
    “Do you always go there in the summer?”
    “No, we go to different places, but they’re all pretty much alike. My mother says we may go to Europe next year.”
    “But that doesn’t interest you?” Oliver asked.
    “Why yes, it does, in a way—I’ve never been to Europe—but—” She stopped, and he said,
    “Go on, Garnet. Tell me.”
    The thoughts she had been thinking so long came tumbling out over her lips.
    “I’ve never said this before, but I think you’ll know what I mean. There won’t be anything different about going to Europe. We’re the sort of people who take our own world with us wherever we go. The best hotel in one city is very much like the best hotel in another city. Nice people are just nice people, no matter where you meet them. Oh, do you understand what I mean?”
    Oliver took both her hands in his. “What do you want to do, Garnet?”
    Garnet looked up at him. She was thinking that she really should not allow a man to hold her hands like this. But he was not flirting. His smile was very gentle. She answered,
    “I want to find out what goes on in the world! I want to know what people are like who are not like me. There are so many kinds of people I don’t know anything about. I pass them on the street. I wonder what they do, how they live, what they think about. I want to go to the places I’m not allowed to go to. I’m tired of the Park Theater. I want to go to the Jewel Box.”
    She caught her lip between her teeth, as though she had accidentally spoken a word that should not be used in nice conversation. But Oliver was not shocked. He only looked puzzled.
    “The Jewel Box?” he repeated. “What’s that?”
    “It’s a variety theater on Broadway, near the park. You mean you’ve never been there?”
    He shook his head. “But now that you remind me, I believe I’ve seen it. There’s a big sign, with flowers and Cupids all over it—is that the place?”
    Garnet laughed regretfully. “There’s the difference between us. You could have gone there any time you pleased, so you’ve hardly noticed it the whole time you’ve been in New York. And I can’t go there, so I’m dying of curiosity about it.”
    “But what’s wrong with it?” asked Oliver. “Why can’t you go there?”
    “I don’t know!” she returned with exasperation. “It’s there, and when we drive past it in the evenings I see crowds of people going in. Well-dressed people, too. But nobody ever mentions the Jewel Box. Not around me, anyway.”
    “Oh Lord,” said Oliver. “What do they want to do with you? Wrap you up in pink tissue paper and put you in the closet?”
    “Yes!” exclaimed