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He turned back to the crowd。 〃I propose we settle this here and now；〃 he shouted。 〃You have a choice。 Ten men go back to work or you strike。〃
〃Wait a minute；〃 Tom protested。
〃The men already turned your proposal down；〃 Riordan snapped。 He raised his right hand。 〃All in favor of returning to work raise your right hand。〃
About ninety men raised their hands。
〃Nays？〃
There were only a few raised hands besides Tom's。
〃The ayes have it。 Now you men go home to your wives。 I'll let you know on Monday which of you go back to work。〃
Slowly the men began to file out of the room。 Tom looked at Riordan but the man didn't meet his eyes。 Instead； he went back into his little glass cubbyhole and picked up the telephone。
Tom walked wearily toward the door。 Some of the men looked at him； then quickly hurried by； as if they were ashamed to meet his gaze。 At the doorway； he turned and looked back。 Riordan was still using the telephone。
The night was clear and bright and a warm breeze came in from the bay。 He walked along thoughtfully。 He wasn't going to be one of the lucky ten who were going to be taken back。 He was sure of that。 He'd seen the anger in Riordan's eyes。 He turned the corner and walked to the car stop on the next block。 Idly he wondered if his pass was still good now that he was laid off。
Two men came past him on the darkened street。 One of them stopped。 〃Got a match？〃
〃Sure；〃 Tom said。 He fumbled in his pocket。 He might not have a job but matches he still had。 He struck the match。 The sudden hardening in the man's eyes and the sound of footsteps behind him were a warning that came too late。 There was a sharp blow to the back of his head and he stumbled to his knees。
He reached out； grabbing the man in front of him around the legs。 The man swore under his breath and kicked upward with his knee； catching Tom in the groin。
Tom grunted from the pain as he went over backward； his head striking the sidewalk。 As if from a long way off； he felt the men kicking at him as he lay there。 He rolled over toward the edge of the sidewalk and into the gutter。
He felt a hand reach into his pocket and take out his pay envelope。 Feebly he tried to grab the hand。 〃No；〃 he pleaded。 〃Please； no； that's my pay； it's all I got！〃
The man laughed harshly。 He aimed a final kick at the side of Tom's head。
Tom saw the heavy boot ing but he couldn't duck away from it。 Then the lights exploded in his face and he rolled over； face down； in a puddle of water in the gutter。 He came to slowly； painfully； to the sound of water against his face。 He moved his head wearily。 A gentle rain had begun to fall。
His body ached as he pushed himself up on his hands and slowly got to his feet。 He swayed dizzily for a moment and reached out to the street lamp to steady himself。 The lamp flickered and then went out。 It was almost morning。 The sick gray light of the day spilled down around him。
He saw his blue conductor's cap lying in the gutter； not far from where he stood。 Slowly he knelt and picked it up。 He brushed it off against his coat and walked toward the corner。 There was a mirror in the corner of the drugstore window。 He paused in front of it and looked at himself。
His uniform was torn and shredded； his tie askew； the shirt buttons ripped away。 He put his hand up to his face in touching wonder。 His nose was puffed and swollen； and one eye had already turned purple。 With the tip of his tongue； he could feel the jagged edges of broken teeth。
He stared for a moment； numb with shock； then he began to understand what had happened to him。 Riordan had done it。 He was sure of that。 That's why Riordan had been on the telephone when he'd left the union hall。
Suddenly； he realized he'd never be able to go back to work for the cable…car pany。 Riordan would see to that； too。 He stood there looking at himself and the tears began to run down his cheeks。 Everything had gone wrong。 Everything。 Now he had no job and no money。 And worst of all； he'd have to tell Ellen。
She'd never believe he hadn't been out on a drunk； and the ironic thing was that he hadn't so much as taken one glass of beer。
4
〃ARE YE GOIN' TO BE SITTIN' THERE ALL DAY READING THE NEWSPAPERS； STUDYIN' WHAT KIND OF A JOB WOULD SUIT YOUR HIGHNESS BEST？〃 ELLEN DENTON ASKED CAUSTICALLY。
Her face was grim as she wrapped Jennie's lunch in a piece of wax paper。 Tom didn't speak； looking down at the paper again as Jennie came into the room。 〃Good morning； Mom；〃 she said brightly。 〃Morning； Daddy。〃
〃Good morning； Jennie Bear；〃 he said； smiling at her。 〃How's my Winnie Winkle this morning？〃
〃Just fine； Daddy。〃 It was a private joke between them。 He'd called her that when she got a job as a typist in the insurance pany last month。 It had been just five weeks after he'd lost his job on the cable cars and two weeks after she graduated from Mercy High School。
〃You're the Winnie Winkle；〃 he'd said。 〃But I'll get something in a few weeks。 Then you'll be able to go to St。 Mary's； like you planned。〃
〃Ye have too much lipstick on； Jennie；〃 her mother said。 〃Best take some of it off。〃
Tom looked at his daughter。 She didn't have that much lipstick on。 It was much less than most of the girls wore whom he used to see every morning on the cable car。
〃Oh； Mother。〃 Jennie protested。 〃I'm working in an office now； not going to school。 I have to look decent。〃
〃Decent ye should look； not painted。〃
〃Aw； Ellen； leave the girl alone；〃 Tom said slowly。
Ellen glared angrily at him。 〃When you're bringin' home some of the money to feed your family； then ye can talk。〃
Tom stared at her； his face setting grimly。 He could feel the color draining from it。 Jennie smiled sympathetically at him and that made it even worse。 He never expected Jennie to be pitying him。 He tightened his lips against a flood of angry words。
〃Golly； I'm going to be late；〃 Jennie said； jumping to her feet。 She snatched at the paper bag on the table and started for the door。 〃 'By； Mom；〃 she said over her shoulder。 〃 'By； Daddy。 Good luck today。〃
Tom could hear her footsteps running down the stairs。 He looked down at the paper again。 〃Could I have another cup of coffee？〃
〃No； one cup is all ye get。 How much coffee d'ye think we can afford on the child's eleven dollars a week？〃
〃But you have the coffee right there。 It's already made。〃
〃It's for warming again tomorrow mornin'；〃 she said。
He folded the paper carefully； got up and walked into the bathroom。 He turned on the tap and let the water run as he took down his shaving brush and razor。 He held his hand under the tap。 The water was still cold。 〃Ellen； there's no hot water for my shave。〃
〃Use the cold； then；〃 she called。 〃Unless ye have a quarter for the gas meter。 I'm savin' the gas we have left for the child's bath。〃
He looked at himself in the mirror。 His face had healed from the beating； but his nose was a little crooked now and there were broken edges on his two front teeth。 He put down the brush and walked into the kitchen。
Ellen's back was still toward him。 He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around。 〃Ellen； Ellen；〃 he said gently。 〃What's happened to us？〃
She stared up into his face for a moment； then reached up and pushed his hands from her shoulders。 〃Don't touch me； Thomas Denton。 Don't touch me。〃
His voice was resigned。 〃Why； Ellen； why？ It's not my fault what happened。 It was God's will。〃
〃God's will？〃 She laughed shrilly。 〃You're the one to be talkin' of God's will。 Him that hasn't been in the church for more years than I can remember。 If ye thought more of your Saviour than you did of your Saturday…night beer。 He'd have shown ye some of His mercy。〃
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly。 Then he turned； went back into the bathroom and began to shave with the cold water。 She hadn't always been like this … sharp…tongued and acid…touched。 And fanatical about the church and the priests。 Once； she'd been Ellen Fitzgerald； with laughing eyes and dancing feet； and he remembered her at the Irish Ballroom on Day Street the time he first met her。
She was the prettiest girl on the floor that night； with her dark…brown hair and blue eyes and tiny feet。 That was in 1912 and they were married the next year。 A year after that； Jennie had been born。
He was a motorman with the car line even then； and when he came back from the war； they moved into this apartment。 A year later； a son was born。
Poor tiny little Tommy。 The world was not long for him and when he was two years old； they laid him to rest in Calvary Cemetery。 Jennie was eight then and barely understood what had happened to her brother； but Ellen found her solace in the quiet of the church； and every day she took her daughter there with her。 At first； he didn't pay much attention。 Ellen's overattachment to her church was only natural； it would wear off soon enough。
But it didn't。 He found that out one night； when he reached for her in the bed and found her cold and unresponsive。 He felt for her breast inside the heavy cotton nightgown but she turned her back to him。 〃You've not made your confession in months。 I'll not have ye planting another child in me。〃
He tried to make a joke of it。 〃Who wants to make a baby？ All I want is a bit of lovin'。〃
〃That's even worse； then；〃 she said； her voice muffled by the pillow。 〃It's sinful and I'll share no part of that sin。〃
〃Is that what the priests have been dunning into your ears？ To deny your husband？〃
She didn't answer。 He gripped her shoulder and forced her to turn toward him。 〃Is that it？〃 he asked fiercely。
〃The priests have told me nothing。 What I do is of me own doing。 I know the Book enough to know right from wrong。 And stop your shouting。 You'll be waking Jennie in the next room。〃
〃I'll stop shouting；〃 he said angrily； as the heat of her shoulder came warm into his hands and the fever rose up in him and he took her by force。 The spasm shook him and he subsided into a heavy…breathing quiet atop her； his eyes staring into hers。
She looked up at him quietly； not moving； passive as she had been all through his assault upon her。 A last shiver drained his vitals。 Then she spoke。 Her voice was calm and distant and detached； as if he weren't there at all。 〃Are ye all through spending your filth in me？〃
He felt a cold sickness rising in his stomach。 He stared at her for a moment more； then rolled off her onto his side of the bed。 〃I'm all through；〃 he said tonelessly。
She got out of the bed and knelt beside the tiny crèche she had placed beneath the crucifix。 He could sense her face turning toward him in the darkness。 〃I shall pray to the Virgin Mother that your seed has found no home in me；〃 she whispered harshly。
He closed his eyes and turned his back。 This was what they'd done to her； spoiled everything between them。 A bitterness began to gall him。
He never set foot in a church again。
5
IT WAS QUIET HERE IN THE NAVE OF THE CHURCH。 Ellen Denton； on her knees before the holy statuary； her head bowed and her beads threaded through her clasped fingers； was at peace。 There was no prayer on her lips； no disturbing thoughts in her mind … only a calm； delicious emptiness。 It permeated her whole being and closed off the world； beyond the forting walls。
The sins of omission； which plagued her hours while she was outside these walls； were but faint distant echoes。 Little Tommy lay quiet in his grave； no reproach on his tiny rosebud lips； for her neglect during his illness。 No memories rose to torture her of her white； naked body； writhing in passion and pleasure； while her son lay dying in the same room。
It had seemed just a tiny cold； a cold such as children have so often and awaken free from in the morning。 How was she to know that while she lay there； whispering her delight into her husband's ear； a minute piece of phlegm had lodged in her son's throat； shutting off the air from his lungs？ So that； when she got up to adjust his covers； as she usually did before she closed her eyes for the night； she found him strangely cold and already blue。 How was she to know that this was to be her punishment for her own sins？
Father Hadley had tried to fort her in her grief。 〃Do not blame yourself； my child。 The Lord giveth； the Lord taketh away。