“Yes, yes, that’s just what it is,” continued Page. “See, there’s the Rookery, and there’s the Constable Building, where Mr. Helmick has his offices. Landry showed me it all one day. And, look back.” She raised the flap that covered the little window at the back of the carriage. “See, down there, at the end of the street. There’s the Board of Trade Building, where the grain speculating is done⁠—where the wheat pits and corn pits are.”

Laura turned and looked back. On either side of the vista in converging lines stretched the blazing office buildings. But over the end of the street the lead-coloured sky was rifted a little. A long, faint bar of light stretched across the prospect, and silhouetted against this rose a sombre mass, unbroken by any lights, rearing a black and formidable façade against the blur of light behind it.