First had been the thrilling "Robert Macaire," then the romantic "Pizarro," in which Rolla had been a being of such overwhelming beauty that she had felt he could not be of earth.
This time her visit was an endless fever of discovery in a realm of magic and mystery, of joys she had supposed were held in reserve for those who went behind the veil.

It was a new and greater city she came to now, where were buildings of undreamed splendour, many of them reaching dizzily three stories above the earth.

And the shops were more fascinating than ever.

She still shuddered at the wickedness of the Gentiles, but with a certain secret respect for their habits of luxury and their profusion of devices for adornment.
And there were strange new faces to be seen, people surely of a different world, of a different manner from those she had known, wearing, with apparent carelessness, garments even more strangely elegant than those in the shop windows, and speaking in strange, soft accents.

She was told that these were Gentiles, tourists across the continent, who had ventured from Ogden to observe the wonders of the new Zion.