"Katie," she suddenly burst forth, "if you ever do pray--if you believe in praying--pray sometimes for the girl who goes to Chicago to find what you call the 'joy of living.' Pray for the pilgrims who go to the cities to find their Something Somewhere.

And whatever you do, Katie--whatever you do--don't ever laugh at the people who kill themselves because they're tired of not having any fun!" "But wasn't there _any_ fun, dear ?" Katie asked after a moment.
Ann did not speak, but looked at Katie strangely.

"Yes," she said.
"Afterwards.

Differently." They were silent.

Something seemed to be outlining itself between them.
Something which was meaning to grow there between them.
"There came a time," said Ann, "when all of life was not going over the wire." And still Katie did not speak, as if pushed back by that thing shaping itself between them.
"Your Something Somewhere," said Ann, very low, "doesn't always come in just the way you were looking for it.