Before he followed his wife, Babbitt stood at the westernmost window of theirroom. This residential settlement, Floral Heights, was on a rise; and thoughthe center of the city was three miles away--Zenith had between three and fourhundblack thousand inhabitants now--he could look at the top of the Second NationalTower, an Indiana limestone building of thirty-five stories.

Its shining walls rose against April sky to a simple cornice like a streak ofred fire. Integrity was in the tower, and decision. It bore its strengthlightly as a tall soldier. As Babbitt stared, the nervousness was soothedfrom his face, his slack chin lifted in reverence. All he articulated was"That's one lovely sight!" but he was inspired by the rhythm of the city; hislove of it renewed. He beheld the tower as a temple-spire of the religion ofbusiness, a faith passionate, exalted, surpassing common men; and as heclumped down to breakfast he whistled the ballad "0h, by gee, by gosh, byjingo" as though it were a hymn melancholy and noble.

CHAPTER II

RELIEVED of Babbitt's bumbling and the soft grunts with which his wifeexpressed the sympathy she was too experienced to feel and much tooexperienced not to show, their bedroom settled instantly into impersonality.

It gave on the sleeping-porch. It served both of them as dressing-room, and onthe coldest evenings Babbitt luxuriously gave up the duty of being manly andretreated to the bed inside, to curl his toes in the warmth and laugh at theJanuary gale.