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Adeel Javed, Anum Sundrani, Nadia Malik and Sidney Madison Prescott

Robotic Process Automation using

UiPath StudioX
A Citizen Developer’s Guide to Hyperautomation
1st ed.
Adeel Javed
Lake Zurich, IL, USA

Anum Sundrani
Chicago, IL, USA

Nadia Malik
Austin, TX, USA

Sidney Madison Prescott

New York, NY, USA

Any source code or other supplementary material referenced by the

author in this book is available to readers on GitHub via the book’s
product page, located at www.​apress.​com/​978-1-4842-6793-6. For
more detailed information, please visit http://​www.​apress.​com/​
source-code.

ISBN 978-1-4842-6793-6 e-ISBN 978-1-4842-6794-3

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-6794-3

© Adeel Javed, Anum Sundrani, Nadia Malik, Sidney Madison Prescott

2021

This work is subject to copyright. All rights are reserved by the

Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned,
specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations,
recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other
physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval,
electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar
methodology now known or hereafter developed.

The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks,

service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the
absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the
relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general
use.

The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the
advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate
at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the
editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the
material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have
been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional
claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

Distributed to the book trade worldwide by Springer Science+Business

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To my daughter Alaia, the light of my life.
—Adeel
To my father Ahmed and my family, for the invaluable support and
inspiration.
—Anum
To my father, for always loving and mentoring me.
—Nadia
To my siblings, I’m forever blessed to be your big sister. And to that little
girl with the big glasses, keep dreaming and achieving.
—Sidney
Acknowledgments
Thank you to Andrew Hall, Brandon Nott, Corneliu Niculite, Cosmin
Voicu, Ovidiu Ponoran, Robert Love, Teodora Baciu, and Tom Merkle
from the UiPath Team for providing valuable feedback.
Thank you to Rayudu Addagarla for agreeing to become a technical
reviewer for our book and executing all the exercises to ensure
accuracy.
Thank you to Natalie Pao and Jessica Vakili, our editors at Apress,
for guiding us through the entire publishing process.
Table of Contents
Part I: Overview
Chapter 1:​Robotic Process Automation:​Overview
Return on Investment (ROI)
Automation Types
UiPath StudioX
Chapter 2:​UiPath StudioX
Learning Objectives
System Requirements
Hardware Requirements
Software Requirements
Installation and Setup
Register
Download
Install
Interface Overview
Home
Design View
Project Workspace
Part II: Building Blocks
Chapter 3:​Common Concepts
Learning Objectives
Notebook
Default Notebook
Custom Notebook
Activity Inputs
 Activity Outputs
Common Properties
Common Activities
Write Line
Message Box
Input Dialog
Modify Text
Text to Left/​Right
Delay
If
Switch
Repeat Number Of Times
Skip Current
Exit Loop
Get Username/​Password
Get Orchestrator Asset
Save For Later
Wait for Download
Group
Chapter 4:​UI Automation
Learning Objectives
Sample Overview
Activities Reference
Use Application/​Browser
Go To URL
Navigate Browser
 Highlight
Take Screenshot
Check App State
Click
Type Into
Select Item
Check/​Uncheck
Get Text
Get Attribute
Extract Table Data
Hover
Keyboard Shortcuts
Get Active Window
Maximize Window
Minimize Window
Hide Window
Restore Window
Move Window
App/​Web Recorder
Chapter 5:​Mail Automation
Learning Objectives
Sample Overview
Desktop Outlook Setup
File System Structure
Activities Reference
Use Desktop Outlook App
 Use Outlook 365
Use Gmail
For Each Email
Mark Email As Read/​Unread
Forward Email
Save Email Attachments
Save Email
Send Email
Send Calendar Invite
Move Email
Reply to Email
Archive Email
Delete Email
Chapter 6:​Word Automation
Learning Objectives
Sample Overview
Word Setup
File System Structure
Activities Reference
Use Word File
Save Document As
Read Text
Set Bookmark Content
Replace Text in Document
Append Text
Insert DataTable in Document
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 Replace Picture
Add Picture
Save Document as PDF
Chapter 7:​Excel Automation
Learning Objectives
Sample Overview
Activities Reference
Use Excel File
Insert Sheet
Rename Sheet
Duplicate Sheet
Delete Sheet
For Each Excel Sheet
Insert Column
Text To Columns
Delete Column
Insert Rows
Delete Rows
Find First/​Last Data Row
For Each Excel Row
Write Cell
Create Pivot Table
Format as Table
Change Pivot Data Source
Refresh Pivot Table
Append Range
 Copy Range
Clear Sheet/​Range/​Table
Sort Range
Auto Fill
Fill Range
Write Range
Read Cell Formula
Read Cell Value
Format Cells
Export to CSV
Save Excel File
Save Excel File As
Save Excel File As PDF
VLookup
Filter
Run Spreadsheet Macro
Chapter 8:​CSV Automation
Learning Objectives
Sample Overview
Activities Reference
Write CSV
Append To CSV
Read CSV
Chapter 9:​File Automation
Learning Objectives
Sample Overview
 Activities Reference
Get Folder Info
Folder Exists
Create Folder
Delete Folder
Copy Folder
Move Folder
For Each File In Folder
Compress/​Zip Files
Extract/​Unzip Files
Get File Info
File Exists
Create File
Delete File
Copy File
Move File
Write Text File
Append Line
Read Text File
Chapter 10:​Presentation Automation
Learning Objectives
Sample Overview
File System Structure
Activities Reference
Use PowerPoint Presentation
Copy Paste Slide
 Delete Slide
Add New Slide
Replace Text in Presentation
Add Text to Slide
Add Data Table to Slide
Add Image/​Video to Slide
Add File to Slide
Run Presentation Macro
Save PowerPoint File As
Save Presentation as PDF
Part III: Prototypes
Chapter 11:​Product Data Entry Automation
Learning Objectives
Manual Task Overview
Solution Design
Initialize
Process Emails
Enter Data
Send Confirmation
Implementation
Step 1:​Setup
Step 2:​Create Project
Step 3:​Setup Project Notebook
Step 4:​Check Folder Structure Exists
Step 5:​Create New Folders
Step 6:​Process Emails
 Step 7:​Save Email Details for Confirmation
Step 8:​Launch Inventory Management App
Step 9:​Fetch All Downloaded Files
Step 10:​Insert Processing Status Column
Step 11:​Enter Data &​Update Status For Each Row
Step 12:​Move File to Processed Folder
Step 13:​Send Confirmation Emails
Test
Chapter 12:​Invoice Generation Automation
Learning Objectives
Manual Process Overview
Solution Design
Implementation
Step 1:​Setup
Step 2:​Create Project
Step 3:​Set Up Project Notebook
Step 4:​Initialize
Step 5:​Generate Invoices
Step 6:​Extract &​Process All Orders
Step 7:​Filter Orders w/​Pending Invoices
Step 8:​Extract Orders Table Data
Step 9:​Process All Orders
Step 10:​Generate Invoice Number
Step 11:​Create Order Details Excel Copy
Step 12:​Create Invoice Template Copy
Step 13:​Extract Order Details &​Generate Invoice
 Step 14:​Extract Order Details Table Data
Step 15:​Generate Invoice for Current Order
Step 16:​Mark Purchase Order as Processed
Step 17:​Delete Temporary Order Details Excel
Test
Index
About the Authors
Adeel Javed
is an intelligent automation architect, an author, and a speaker. He helps
organizations automate work using low-code, business process
management (BPM), robotic process automation (RPA), analytics,
integrations, and ML. He loves exploring new technologies and writing
about them. He published his first book, Building Arduino Projects for
the Internet of Things, with Apress back in 2015. He shares his thoughts
on various technology trends on his personal blog (adeeljaved.com).

Anum Sundrani
is a business systems analyst and technology enthusiast who
specializes in business process management and robotic process
automation. Anum is a Certified Appian Analyst, Tableau Author, Six
Sigma Green Belt, and Scrum Master, alongside her several trainings in
the areas of RPA development and the automation delivery life cycle.
She has an inquisitive eye for simplifying complex business processes
and has focused on implementing automation solutions for business
users since 2017.

Nadia Malik
is a presales engineer with a background in software development. She
started her journey as a software engineer at IBM developing cloud
storage applications and then joined the UiPath rocketship in June of
2018 helping in designing, implementing, and providing training to
customers in robotic process automation. Today, she continues to
evangelize RPA and mentor young women in STEM.

Sidney Madison Prescott

is a senior technology leader, keynote speaker, and robotics evangelist
specializing in the creation of Robotic Process Automation Centers of
Excellence for Fortune 500 companies. Sidney currently heads up the
Global Intelligent Automation initiative at the music streaming
powerhouse Spotify. In addition to her enterprise technology expertise,
Sidney is an executive board member for three global nonprofit
organizations, where she contributes valuable automation insights to
enhance overall program objectives. To round out her career accolades,
Sidney was also named a global recipient of the 2020 Top 50
Technology Visionaries award.
About the Technical Reviewer
Rayudu Addagarla
has 20 years of experience in web/mobile application development, the
cloud, and solution architecture. He has been programming with
Microsoft and LAMP stack since 1998. He has always been a full-stack
technologist. His passion is toward digital transformation and business
process automation, and he is a certified specialist in UiPath RPA. Along
with Level 3 Advanced Certification in UiPath, he holds certifications in
Pega RPA, WorkFusion, Tricentis TOSCA, Appian, and Pega BPM.
He holds a master of science degree in computer science from the
University of Louisville, Kentucky, USA, and a bachelor of technology
degree from JNTUACEA, Ananthapuramu, India. He has worked in the
roles of Software Engineer, Business Process Consultant, Senior
Manager, Industry Principal, Delivery Manager, and Senior Solution
Architect. He has expertise in Healthcare, Manufacturing, Banking and
Financial Services, Retail, Ecommerce, and Telecommunications
domains.
He has proven experience in building successful Automation COEs.
He currently works as an Intelligent Automation Consultant for EPAM
Systems, Inc., a global consulting firm in Toronto, Canada.
Rayudu teaches Scratch and Python for kids in his spare time and
shares his knowledge on LinkedIn. He believes strongly in servant
leadership and lifelong learning.
He can be reached at http://​bit.​ly/​raylnkd.
Part I
Overview
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A. Javed et al., Robotic Process Automation using UiPath StudioX
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-6794-3_1

1. Robotic Process Automation:

Overview
Adeel Javed1 , Anum Sundrani2, Nadia Malik3 and
Sidney Madison Prescott4
(1) Lake Zurich, IL, USA
(2) Chicago, IL, USA
(3) Austin, TX, USA
(4) New York, NY, USA

To remain competitive in today’s hyper-automated world, digital

transformation initiatives have become a primary focus across various
industries. Traditionally, C-suite executives are increasingly interested
in lowering operational expenditures, particularly costs associated with
the human workforce. In addition, business leaders are simultaneously
focused on driving increased efficiencies and employee satisfaction
across the enterprise. As a result, companies are undergoing a higher
level of scrutiny surrounding existing business processes to seek out
opportunities for automation at a global scale. One area of process
optimization is that which exists for desk-level procedures typically
executed by business stakeholders. With such a high percentage of
automation opportunities executed by the business stakeholders, a
bottom-up approach is commonly seen in which the workforce chooses
tasks to automate based on their individual needs. Not only can they
help in identifying opportunities to automate but also create
automations themselves so that they may focus on high-value tasks.
With the advent of intelligent automation, specifically Robotic Process
Automation (RPA), companies now have a proven way to automate
business processes at the keystroke level.
UiPath provides a technology that enables the automation of
business processes traditionally performed by business users, using
configurable software referred to as “robots.” UiPath’s development
platform, StudioX, is extremely flexible and user-friendly as it is a low-
code/no-code solution. The software allows users the ability to interact
with systems via a robot which leverages the users’ own credentials or
can be configured with distinct credentials and specific permissions.
Robotic Process Automation tools interact with an application in the
same way as end users do, through interactions with the user interface
(UI), as well as through the back end of a system.
From a compliance and risk perspective, robots can only execute
tasks that are specifically designed with the virtual robot worker in
mind. The robot’s access to both internal and external systems is
limited to the design of the robot workflow, which demonstrates the
rules-based nature of the software. The robot can also be designed to
prompt the user for input or incorporate artificial intelligence (AI) to
handle more cognitive tasks. As a result, Robotic Process Automation
enables automation of the manual, repetitive tasks that are typically a
fundamental component of a business user’s daily job responsibilities.
A fundamental premise of Robotic Process Automation software is
the belief that robotic software is designed to complement the human
workforce, by empowering organizations with the ability to upskill
employees to build simple automations or route more complex
automations to a set of developers reporting into a core automation
team. Adding Robotic Process Automation functionality into a business
department can maximize the efficiency of employee outputs, minimize
the risk of human error, and mitigate the number of tedious, manual
processes employees are expected to execute, thus increasing the
potential for a higher level of employee satisfaction.

Return on Investment (ROI)

In addition to enabling the automation of repetitive tasks, Robotic
Process Automation software can provide substantial return on
investment to both business process owners and the enterprise at
large. Robotic Process Automation software allows firms to automate
manual processes in a cost-efficient manner, due to the fact the price
point of the RPA software is typically lower than that of traditional
business applications. Robots are beneficial in minimizing the costs
typically incurred in automation projects, as Robotic Process
Automation tools can leverage existing infrastructure architecture
without impacting live systems.
The infrastructure necessary to support robots is considerably
minimal when compared to other tools, as robots can either run on an
end user’s desktop (attended automation) or a virtual machine
(unattended automation). One of the many benefits of Robotic Process
Automation is the ability users to dictate whether a human or a robot
will be responsible for executing a particular step of the process within
a given workflow. In addition, workflows can be customized to indicate
when robots encounter changes in each system including routine
software upgrades whereby elements of the user interface might
deviate from previous versions. A significant benefit of Robotic Process
Automation is the ability users to create workflows to support a
dynamically changing environment with minimal impact to underlying
infrastructure capabilities.

Automation Types
Moving forward, we will dive into the nuances of unattended robots
and attended robots, to understand how the distinction between the
two types of automation is driving a new approach to enabling business
process automation through citizen development (business users with
the ability to build automations). Robotic Process Automation can be
leveraged to automate a wide variety of processes including but not
limited to payroll processing, customer service, advertising operations,
report aggregation, and vendor onboarding. Robotic Process
Automation also offers a wide variety of automation deployment
models which can be used interchangeably to automate processes
across the business including
Attended robots that reside on the end user’s computer or virtual
machine for the purpose of automating simple manual processes that
can be triggered by the actions of the user.
 Unattended robots that can be provisioned to reside on machines
based on-premises (physical server based) or off-premises (virtual
machines/cloud based) for the purpose of automating more complex
back-office functions commonly scheduled to run based on a time or
queue. Typically, unattended automation lends itself to more data-
intensive tasks and processes with higher transaction volumes such
as batch jobs.
Hybrid robots that reside on a combination of end user and on-
premises/off-premises solutions to enable a combination of attended
and unattended style processing to enable the end-to-end
automation of processes that require both human support and back-
end functionality.
Each automation deployment model allows the end user the ability
to determine the best way to interact with a robot based on the task at
hand, alongside careful consideration of the existing variables in each
environment. The various automation deployment models can be
leveraged interchangeably as a part of a holistic enterprise-level
automation platform and digital transformation strategy. As we move
forward, we’ll focus on features and hands-on exercises specific to the
Robotic Process Automation industry leader, UiPath, to discuss the
unique value proposition the company offers citizen developers
through the use of StudioX.

UiPath StudioX
UiPath is a global Robotic Process Automation software company based
out of Romania. The company was founded in 2005 by Daniel Dines.
The company originally offered automation libraries and software as an
outsourced service, but quickly positioned itself to become an industry
leader through a customer-centric model designed to democratize
access to Robotic Process Automation capabilities. Through a robust
product road map and unique approach to empower business users
with the ability to automate simple business processes via StudioX,
UiPath’s enterprise platform demonstrates the seamless fusion that
exists between business processes and automation capabilities.
StudioX is one product of UiPath’s Robotic Process Automation
platform designed to enable business users to build automation
without the need for a traditional development background. The
StudioX functionality includes a no-code interface with out-of-the-box
drag-and-drop functionality to facilitate ease of use. In addition,
StudioX contains predesigned templates and native integrations with
common business applications such as the Microsoft Office suite to
facilitate faster development of automation workflows. Business users
can deploy a robot directly to a local machine, such as a desktop which
removes the need for traditional IT deployment support. In addition,
governance functionality is also built into the StudioX framework to
allow auditing capabilities to ensure that existing company compliance
protocols remain intact. Regarding the scheduling and sharing of
automations, users can complete both tasks through the UiPath
Assistant and Orchestrator components of UiPath.
One of the key elements that demonstrates the flexibility of StudioX
is the fact the tool allows business users a user-friendly way to learn
how to build automations that are beneficial to their job functions
while simultaneously learning a new technical skill. In a world where
technical prowess has become increasingly important, providing
employees an opportunity to leverage Robotic Process Automation
tools can help individuals to feel empowered and more satisfied,
potentially leading to less attrition. The citizen developer model is the
methodology by which business users are trained on the skills required
to build automations while also being provisioned access to RPA tools
to begin the development of robot workflows. As Robotic Process
Automation continues to expand across a wide variety of industries, it
will be important to continue to expand the knowledge of business
users with tools such as StudioX to provide a wealth of benefits at an
organizational level.
In the rest of the book, we will explore hands-on exercises with
detailed reference guides for various activities and sample files to help
you as you work to build your first RPA robots in StudioX. The goal of
each chapter is to provide real-world business process scenarios for
readers to reference as Robotic Process Automation learning tools. As
you work through the exercises, make a note of any challenges you
encounter to allow time to reflect on possible ways to solve any
roadblocks you may have. This book is intended for both the business
user looking to learn how to leverage StudioX for the first time and the
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excitement. “You’ll have to prompt me,” he said to Betty Berry,
speaking roughly in his tension. “It’s my first time with this new dope.
I thought I had it, but I ain’t—and there’s a barrel of it.”
The stage was slightly changed. Morning was thinking how
hideous the work of some men. The Phantom was scourged with the
fear of one who was to do imperfectly what another had written. The
woman had carried a small table and chair to the wings, out of view
of the audience and as near as possible to the Memorizer.... Morning
found something soft and fragrant in his hands. Betty Berry’s wrap,
which she had given to him before going to the table. And now the
monologue had begun.... It was to be humorous.
Betty Berry, standing beside the table, raised her eyes from the
paper, and beckoned to Morning. His first thought was that he might
disturb her prompting, and he hesitated. She looked up again. Then
he thought she might want her wrap. He tiptoed forward and put it
around her shoulders.
“It wasn’t that,” she whispered, her eyes upon the paper. “I
wanted you to keep me company. This is long. Sit down.”
“Won’t you—sit down?” he said from behind, very close to her
hair.
She shook her head.... It was peculiar—she standing, and he in
the chair. The soft wrap winged out, and her arm beneath slid across
his shoulder; the hollow of her left arm against his cheek. He kissed
it, and his face burned against its coolness.
She shivered slightly, but did not take her arm away. Now he
looked up into her face—her eyelids drawn, her lips compressed, her
gaze steadily held to the manuscript. The Phantom was carried on
by the alien humor. Laughter was beginning to crackle here and
there through the house. Betty Berry followed with her eyes—just the
words.
“I was so glad to find you,” Morning whispered.
Her lips moved.
Matters tumbled over each other in his mind to say to her; he was
thinking sentences rather than words. He knew that it was not well to
talk now, but there seemed so much to say, and so little time. He
caught himself promising to give her understanding, and he told her
that she seemed everything he wanted to know. His cheek was
burning as never before....
The remotest happened. The Phantom faltered in a climax, and
covered the difficulty with a trick—awaiting the line from the wings.
Betty Berry had become rigid. Her eyes would not see the page.
Morning spoke a sentence in a low, carrying way. He had plucked
it from the page painfully near his own eyes. It may be that the
Memorizer righted himself, or that the prompted line was what he
needed. Anyway, he was going again, and rising to the end....

The two stood together while the house laughed, recalling the
performer.
“Thanks. I caught it fine,” the Phantom said hastily. “Not even the
front rows knew. I was listening for Miss Berry—and your cue came
——”
“It went all right,” said Morning.
The other took the manuscript and passed on, rolling a
cigarette.... For just a moment, the two were alone. Into each other’s
arms they went, with the superb thoughtlessness of children ... and
then they heard steps and voices.... He wondered that Betty Berry
could laugh and reply to those who spoke to her.... He wanted to
escape with her. Never had he wanted anything so much. He was
exhausted, humbled, inspired. To be out in the street with her—it
seemed almost too good to be.... She was saying good-night and
good-bye. He followed, carrying the ’cello.

5
Morning remembered that he had thought of her once before as
having braids down behind—as if they were boy and girl
together, and now it seemed as if they were wandering through
some Holland street. He had never been in a Holland street, but the
sense of it came to him—as he walked with her, carrying her
instrument. His primary instinct was to turn away from the noise of
the cars, and where the lights were less glaring. Moreover, now that
they were alone, the impulse to say many things had left him.
“We must hurry to the ferry—there is only a few minutes——”
He had known somehow that she was going away—perhaps
from something she had said to the others at the theatre.
“You’re not going way back to—to the Armory?”
“No, to Europe just for a few weeks. I sail to-morrow morning
from Baltimore. All we have to do is to catch the ferry and train. I
have sleeper-tickets—and berth and all——”
“I’ll—I’ll go across on the ferry with you,” he said huskily.
She felt his suffering by her own, and said:
“My old master is there. I am to meet him—I think in Paris—I
shall know when I reach London. There is to be just a few private
concerts and some lessons further from him. For two years we’ve
planned to do this. I go to Baltimore, because it is cheaper to sail
from there——”
“And you’ll be back—when?”
“By the first of March—just a few days over three months——”
He was silent for a time, and then asked: “Do you think this is just
like a chance meeting to me—as one meets an old friend in New
York?”
“No.”
 “I was in a whirl when I saw you,” he said desperately. “It was
such a pretty thing, too—the way I happened to come to the theatre
... and now you’re going away——”
“Yes—yes—but it’s only a little while——”
“Did you know I was here in New York?”
“I knew you had been. I saw your work——”
“But anywhere my work appears—a letter sent in care of the
paper or magazine would find me——”
“We—I mean women—do not write that way——”
“I know—I know.... But I didn’t have anything but the name, ‘Betty
Berry’——”

“It seemed that night after I left you at the Armory everyone was
talking about John Morning. And to think I supposed you just a
soldier. Everywhere, it was what John Morning had done, and what
he had endured—and I had spent the afternoon with you. I started to
read that story about your journey, but I couldn’t go on. It seemed
that I would die before I was half through your sufferings.... I would
try to think of the things we said, but they didn’t come back. I couldn’t
rest. I was glad you asked me to come again. I could hardly wait for
the morning—to go back to the Armory——”
He had no answer. They were in a cross-town car.
“But I think I understand. We won’t say anything of that again....”
“You went back to the Armory that next morning?”
“Yes——”
“Oh, but I wasn’t ready,” he said at last, as if goaded by pain. “I
had so much to learn. Why, I had to learn this—how little this means
——”
He pointed out of the windows to the city streets.
 “You mean New York?”
“Yes——”
“It really seems as if men must learn that, first of all. You have
done well to learn so soon.”
“It’s so different now. I must have been half-unconscious that day
when you came. You were like an angel. I didn’t know until afterward
what it really meant to me.... You remember the men who came—
newspaper men? They showed me what I could do in New York—
how I could make the magazines and the big markets. I was
knocked-out. You must see it—all I wanted to do in coming years—to
make what seemed the real literary markets—all was to be done in a
few weeks.... It was not until I was on the train that night that I
remembered you were a living woman, and had come to me.... Then
I didn’t know what to do.... But ever since I have thought of that
afternoon, every day....”
They boarded the ferry and moved away from the rest of the
people.
“I hate to have you go,” he said. The words were wrung from him.
They were such poor and common words, but his every process of
thought repeated them. He looked back the years, and found a
single afternoon in the midst of passionate waste—the single
afternoon in which she came.... She was everything to him. He
wanted to go on and on this way, carrying her ’cello. He could ask no
more than to have her beside him. He had learned the rest—it was
trash and suffering. He wanted to tell her all he knew—not in the
tension of this momentary parting—but during days and years, to tell
his story and have her sanction upon what was done, and to be
done. She was dear; peace was with her.... She would tell him all
that was mysterious; together they would be One Who Knew.
Together they would work—do the things that counted, and learn
faith....
She took the ’cello from him, so that he could carry to the
Pullman her large case checked in the Jersey station.... It was very
quiet and dark in the coach. All the berths were made up but one, in
which they sat down.... They were alone. It was perfect.
“I can’t go back now. I’ll go on with you to Trenton.... I have
thought so much of meeting you.... When the men came that day to
the Armory they showed me everything that seemed good then—
fame and money waiting in New York. It seemed that it couldn’t wait
another day—that I must go that night.... When the train started (it
was like this in Oakland) I thought of you—of you, back in ’Frisco
and coming to the Armory in the morning. It broke me. But I wasn’t
right—not normal. I had worked like a madman—wounds and all. I
worked like a madman in New York——”
She put her hand on his. Her listening centered him. That was it
—as if he had not been whirling true before.... Her hand, her
listening, and he was himself—eager to give her all that was real.
“It’s so good to have you here,” she said in a low, satisfied way.
“Will you be able to get a train back all right?”
“Yes.” Now he thought of Charley and his sister.
“It was such a good little thing that brought me to you,” he said.
“One of the little things that I never thought of before,” he told her
hurriedly.
“They are very wonderful—those little things, as you call them....
A person is so safe in doing them——”
“I must tell Duke Fallows about that,” he added. “About that word
‘safe,’ as you just said it.... Did you read his story?”
“About the Ploughman?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, it was wonderful!” Betty Berry said. “He made me see it. It
was almost worth a war to make people see that——”
She stopped strangely. He was bending close, watching her.
“Do you know you are a love-woman?”
“You mean something different?” she asked queerly.
 “I mean you are everything—don’t you see? You know everything
at once that I have to get bruised and tortured to know. And when
you are here, I know where I am. It’s different from any kind of
resting to be here with you. It’s kind of being made over. And then
you are so—tender——”
“You make the tears come, John Morning.”
Now, it was very dark where they were; the real silences began.
He knew the most wonderful thing about her—her listening....
Sometimes, she seemed hardly there. Sometimes the love for her
and the sweet quality of it all—shut his throat, and he stared away in
the dark. It came to him that Betty Berry—left to herself—would be
infallible. She might do wrong, through the will of someone else, but
her own impulses were unerringly right. There was delicacy,
perhaps, from the long summer alone, in this sense that he must not
impose his will. She would be unable to refuse anything possible. If
ever Betty Berry were forced to refuse anything he asked, they
would never be the same together. And so he studied her. Her
nature was like something that enfolded. It was like an atmosphere—
his own element.
“Betty——”
“Yes.”
“Betty——”
“Yes——-”
And then she laughed and kissed him. He was saying her name
in the very hush of contemplation; so real that the name was all....

6
The Pullman conductor passing through after Trenton gave
Morning further passage, and moved on with a smile. A wonderful
old darkey was the porter, very huge, past seventy, with a voice
purringly kind, and the genial deference of the Old South. Morning
was thinking there couldn’t be better hands in which to leave the
Betty Berry.... Fifteen minutes at Philadelphia; they hurried out for a
cup of coffee. As one of the big station clocks marked the minutes,
Morning felt havoc with a new and different force.
“I can’t go back now,” he said.
“You look so tired—the long night journey back——” she faltered.
“Would you like to have me go farther—to Wilmington—to
Baltimore?”
“Oh, yes.”
“And you won’t mind staying up?”
Betty Berry covered her eyes.... “I never rested in quite the same
way as to-night,” she said. “It has been happy—so happy,
unexpected. I shall have nine days at sea to think of it—to play and
think of it, moment by moment.”
“I’ll go with you clear through to the ship then.”
The clock ceased its torment.
“Have you plenty of money to get back—and all?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure—because I could loan you some?”
He told her again, but the thought held a comradeship that
gripped him. It happened that he was plentifully supplied; though he
would have walked back rather than confess otherwise—a peculiar
stupidity. The beaming of the old porter made the moment at the
steps of the coach so fine, Morning found himself explaining:
“The lady is sailing from Baltimore in the morning. I’ve decided to
go clear through to the pier.”
This was an extraordinary thing for him to explain.
They sat in silence until the train moved, and they could forget
the snoring.... The coach grew colder, and Betty unpacked a steamer
rug which they used for a lap-robe. Even the old darkey went to
sleep after Wilmington.
 “Letters—” she said at last. “I have been thinking about that....
There’s no way to tell where I am to be. I won’t know until London,
where I am to meet my old master. Perhaps then I could tell you—
but I daren’t think of letters and risk disappointment.... You must wait
until I write you——”
Morning began to count the days, and she knew what was in his
mind.
“That’s just it—one gets to lean on letters. One’s letters are never
one’s self. I know that extended writing throws one out from the true
idea of another. I shall think of to-night during the weeks.... It seems,
we forgot the world to-night. There—behind the scenes—how
wonderful.... There was no thought about it. I just found myself in
your arms——”
“Then I am not to write—until I hear from you?” he asked. It had
not occurred to him before that she could have any deeper reason
than an uncertain itinerary.
“That will be best.... Don’t you see, writing is your work. It will
make you turn your training upon me. Something tells me the peril of
that. As to-night dimmed away—you would force the picture....
Trained as you, one writes to what he wishes one to be, not to what
one is.... You would make me all over to suit—and when I came,
there would be a shock.... And then think if some night—very eager
and heart-thumping, I should reach a city—so lonely and hungry for
my letter—and it shouldn’t be there.... No, to-night must do for me. I
shall go on my way playing and biding my time, until the return
steamer. Then some morning, about the first of March, you shall
hear that I am back—and that I am waiting for my real letter——”
“And where did you learn all this—about a man writing himself
out of the real?” John Morning asked wonderingly.
“If I were to be in one place to receive your letters, I might not
have thought of it—yet it is true.... Then, my letters are nothing.
Perhaps I am a little afraid to write to you. I think with the ’cello——”
“All that seems very old and wise, beyond my kind of thinking,” he
said.
 For a long time she was listening. It was like that first afternoon....
What did Betty Berry hear continually? It gave him a conception of
what receptivity meant—that quiescence of all that is common, that
abatement of the world and the worldly self, that quality purely
feminine. It was like a valley receiving the afternoon sunlight. He
realized vaguely at first that the mastery of self, necessary for such
listening, is the very state of being saints pray for, and practice
continually to attain.... Perhaps, he thought, this is the way great
powers come—from such listening—the listening of the soul;
perhaps such power would come again and again, if only the
strength of it were turned into service for men; perhaps it was a kind
of prayer.... It was all too vague for him to speak....
She was first to whisper that the dawn had come.
“I love you,” he said.
He saw her eyes with the daylight, as he had not seen them
since that first afternoon—gray eyes, very deep. The same strange
hush came to him from them. And there was a soft gray lustre with
the morning about her traveling-coat; and her brown hair seemed
half-transparent against the panes. No one was yet abroad in the
coach.
“I don’t seem to belong at all—except that I love you,” he
whispered.
“Tell me—what that means—oh, please——”
“When I think of what I am, and who I am, and what I have been
—and what common things I have done in the stupidity of thinking
they were good,” he explained with a rush of words: “when I think of
the dozen turnings in my life, when little things said or done by
another have kept me from greater shame and nothingness—oh, it
doesn’t seem to me that I belong at all to such a night as this! But
when I feel myself here, and see you, and how dear you are to me,
how you wait for my words, and what happiness this is together—
then it comes to me that I don’t belong to those other things, but only
to this—that I could never be a part of those old thoughts and ways,
if you were always near——”
 “And I have waited a long time.... The world has said again and
again, ‘He will never come,’ but something deeper of me—something
deeper than plays the ’cello, kept waiting on and on. That deeper me
seemed to know all the time.”
Talking and listening carried them on. John Morning had the
different phases of self segregated in an astonishing way. He spoke
of himself as man can only with a woman—making pictures of
certain moments, as a writer does. Volumes of emotion, they burned,
talking and listening, leaning upon each other’s words and thoughts.
They were one, in a very deep sense of joy and replenishment. They
touched for moments the plane of unity in which they looked with
calm upon the parting, but the woman alone poised herself there.
They left the old darkey—a blessing in his voice and smile. Such
passages of the days’ journeys were always important to Betty Berry.
Morning fell often from the heights to contemplate the journey’s
end and the dividing sea. In spite of his words, in spite of his belief—
his giving was not of her quality of giving. His replenishment was
less therefore.... They moved about the streets of Baltimore in early
morning. The baggage went on to the ship. An hour remained.
Sounds and passing people distracted him. The woman was fresher
than when he had seen her last night, but Morning was haggard and
full of needs.... She was a continual miracle, unlike anything that the
world held—different in every word and nestling and intonation.
Much of her was the child—yet from this naive sweetness, her mood
would change to a womanhood which enfolded and completed him,
so that they were as a globe together. In such instants she brought
vision to his substance; mind to his brain, intuition to his logic,
divination to his reason, affinity to each element—enveloping him as
water an island. The touch of her hand was a kiss; and of her kiss
itself, passion was but the atmosphere; there was earth below and
sky above.... She took him to the state-room where she was to be,
“so you will know where I am when you think of me.”... They heard
the knock of heels on the deck above....
He could not think. He heard them calling for visitors to go
ashore.... He thought once it was too late, and when he was really
below on the wharf and she above, and he realized that the wild
hope of being taken away with her, (his own will not entering, as the
serpent entered Eden,) he could hardly see her for the blur—not of
tears, but of his natural rending. Her voice was but one of many
good-byes to the shore, yet it came to him out of the tumult of voices
and whistles—as a ewe to find her own.

7
Morning heard some one nearby say that so-and-so had not
really sailed, but was just going down the bay.... It was thus he
learned that he might have passed the forenoon with Betty Berry on
the Chesapeake. In fact, there was no reason for him not taking the
voyage.... In a quick rush of thinking, as he stood there on the piers,
all his weaknesses paraded before him, each with its particular
deformity. The sorry pageant ended with a flourish, and he was left
alone with the throb of the unhealed wound in his side.
Betty Berry would not have agreed to let him take the voyage,
just for the sake of being with her. He knew this instinctively, but
perhaps it might have been managed.... To think he had missed the
chance of the forenoon.... The liner was sliding down the passage,
already forgotten by the lower city.... Morning found himself looking
into the window of a drink-shop. Bottles and cases of wine in their
dust and straw-coats were corded in the window, which had an
English dimness and look of age. A quiet place; the signs attested
that ales were drawn from the wood and that many whiskeys of
quality were within. Something of attraction for the spirituous
imagination was in the sweet woody breath that reached him when
he opened the door. A series of race-horse pictures took his mind
from himself to better things.
These influences played merely upon the under-surfaces of an
intelligence whose thoughts followed the steamer down the
Chesapeake as certainly as the flock of gulls.... It was that quiet time
in the morning, after the floors are washed. The day was bright, with
just a touch of cold in the air.
... A drink improved him generally. He examined the string of
horses again, and talked to the man behind. The man declared it
was his law not to drink oftener than once in the half-hour, during the
forenoon; he stated that it paid to exert this self-control, as his
appetite was better and he was less liable to “slop over” in the
afternoon. Morning was then informed that oysters were particularly
good just now, and that a man with a weak stomach could live on
oysters.... There was just one little flange of an oyster that was
indigestible. The man knew this because drink makes one dainty
about his eating, and one can tell what agrees with him or otherwise.
Furthermore, one could detach the indigestible flange in one’s mouth
before swallowing—anyone could with practice. The man glanced
frequently at the clock.... Well, he would break over, just once, and
make up later. A half hour was sometimes a considerable portage....
They became companionable.
Morning started back for New York at noon. The particular train
he caught was one of the best of its kind. The buffet, the quality of
service and patronage had a different, an intimate appeal to-day. He
sat there until dark—in that sort of intensive thinking which seemed
very measured and effective to Morning. His chief trend was a
contemplation, of course, of the night before. Aspects appeared that
did not obtrude at all with the woman by him. Considering the
opportunity, he had kissed her very rarely, as he came to think of it....
His fellow-passengers let him alone. He reflected that he could
always get along with the lower orders of men—with sailors, soldiers,
bartenders; with the Jakes, Jethros, and Jerries of the world. Duke
Fallows had remarked this.... Duke Fallows ... the old Liaoyang
adventure came back more clearly than it had for months.... That
was a big set of doings. Certainly there was a thrill about those days,
when one stopped to think.
At dinner time, approaching the end of the journey, Morning met
a pronounced disinclination to stay on the Jersey side. The little
cabin on the hill was certainly not for this condition of mind. He had
to stop and think that it was only yesterday noon when he left the
cabin. A period of time that flies rapidly, appears strangely long when
regarded from the moments of its closing. The period of the past
thirty hours since he had left the hill was like a sea-voyage. The
lights across the river had a surprising attraction. When he realized
the old steam of alcohol, his mind glibly explained that it was merely
an episode of a sick and overwrought body; that the real John
Morning, of altruism and aspiration, was away at sea with the love-
woman, much cherished, the very soul of him.
More than a half-year before he had fled to the country, weary to
nausea of men in chairs and buffets. The animalism of it had utterly
penetrated him at last; the Conrad study was but one of many
revelations. He had hated the Boabdil; and hated more the
processes of his own mind when alcohol impelled. Only yesterday
morning he had hated the whole vanity of New York leisure, with the
same freshness that had characterized his first month of cleanliness.
Yet he found novelty in the present adventure; the prevailing illusion
of which was that he was wrong yesterday rather than now. That
night he sought his old haunts. There was a gladness about it.
“One mustn’t be too much alone,” he decided, “especially if he is
to write.... I must have got cocky sitting there alone by the cabin-
door.... These fellows aren’t so bad....”
Presently he was telling the old story of Liaoyang. That roused
him a little and pulled upon mental fibers still lame.... Was he to be
identified always with that?... A week later he was telling the story of
breaking away from the Russians at Liaoyang and making the
journey alone to Koupangtse. This was in a strangely quiet bar on
Eighth Avenue, in the Forties. A peculiarity about this particular
telling of the story was that he remembered the ferryman on the Hun
—the one who had wakened the river-front as he led Eve down to
drink—the ferryman who was a leper....
As days passed he went down deeper than ever before. “I must
have had this coming——” he would say, and refused to cross the
river to rest. There were moments when he felt too unutterably dirty
to go to the cabin. One day, he kept saying, “I’m going to see this
through.” And on another day he reflected continually (conscious of
the cleverness of the thought) that this drink passage was like the
journey to Koupangtse.... Then there was the occasion when it broke
upon him suddenly that he was being avoided at the Boabdil. He
never went back.... One morning he joined some sailors who had
breezed in from afar. They brought him memories and parlances;
their ways were his ways all that day, whose long drift finally brought
them to Franey’s Lobelia, as tough and tight a little bar as you would
ask any modern metropolis to furnish. The sailors were down and
done-for now, but Morning stood by for the end, enjoying the place
and the wide bleakness of it.... A slumming party came in about
midnight—young men and women of richness and variety, trying to
see bottom by looking straight down—as if one could see through
such dirty water.
The city’s dregs about him—a fabric of idiocy and perversion and
murder—did not look so fatuous nor wicked to Morning’s eye, as did
this perfumed company. They thought they were seeing life, but,
deeper than brain, they knew better; their laughter and their voices
were off the key, because they were not being true to themselves.
Franey’s regulars were glad for the extra drinks, but Morning had a
fury. His shame for the party was akin to the shame he had held for
Lowenkampf on the eve of battle long ago. He arose, short and
flaming, yet conscious even in his rage of the brilliance of his idea.
“You people make me sick,” he said, lurching out. “You’d have to
be slumee to see how silly you look——”
They tried to detain him—to laugh at him—but one woman knew
better. Her low voice of rebuke to her companions was a far greater
rebuke to John Morning at the door.
... Finally he began to wonder how long they would keep on
giving him money at the bank. He turned up every day. No matter
what he drew it was always gone. Sometimes a holiday tricked him,
and he suffered. He watched for Sundays, after he learned.... The
banking business was a hard process, because he had to emerge;
had to come right up to the window and speak to a clean, white man
—who had known him before. It became the sole ascent of
Morning’s day—a torturing one. He washed and shaved for it, when
possible, and after a time managed frequently to save enough to
steady his nerves for the ordeal. Then he had to write his name, and
always a blue eye was leveled at him, and he felt the dirt in his
throat.... So he drifted for six weeks, and it was winter.
 His descent was abrupt and deep. He tried to get back, and
found his will treacherous. He was prey at times to abominable fears.
His body was unmanageable from illness. There were times when it
would have meant death or insanity not to drink. For the first time in
his life he encountered an inertia that could not be whipped to the
point of reconstructivity. His thoughts cloyed all fine things; his
expression made them mawkish and teary; his emotions overflowed
on small matters. Betty Berry, around whom all this brooding
revolved, hardly reached a plane worthy of interpretation. Morning’s
conception of the woman on the afternoon she came to the Armory,
or on the night-trip to Baltimore, contrasted with this mental
apparition of the sixth week:
“She is a professional musician, making her own way in the
world, and taking, as many a man would, the things that please her
as she passes. This is not the great thing to her that it is to me.
Other men have doubtless interested her suddenly and rousingly,
and have gone their way.... Had she been a stranger to a man’s
sudden loving she would never have beckoned me to the chair in the
wings that night. She would never have come to my arms—as I went
to hers——”
Sweat broke from him. The savage and abandoned company of
thoughts had ridden down all else, like a troop of raiders, destroying
as they went.... The troop was gone; the shouting died away—but he
was left more lewd and low than the worst. He had defiled the image
of the woman who had given herself so eagerly. He recalled how he
had talked of understanding, how he had praised her in his thoughts
because she was brave enough to be natural, and to act as a natural
woman who has found her own, after years of repression. The other
side of the shield was turned to torture him—the sweet, low-leaning,
human tenderness of Betty Berry, her patience, her endless and
ever-varying bestowals. She had called his the voice of reality, and
become silent before it; had proved great enough to remain
undestroyed in a man’s world; her faith and spirit arose above
centuries of lineage in a man’s world—and she was Betty Berry who
knew her lover’s presence, though they were almost strangers to
each other, and opened her arms to him....
 It was a hell that he vividly reviewed for seven weeks, and with
no Virgil to guide. A scene or two from the final day is enough:
... He had come from the bank about one in the afternoon, and
had taken a chair in the bar of the Van Antwerp. He was neither limp
nor sprawling, but in a condition of queer detachment from exterior
influences. He knew that it was daylight; heard voices but no words,
and carried himself with the rigid effort of one whose limbs are
habitually flippant. Perhaps it was because he was so very generous
to the waiter that he was allowed to close his eyes without being
molested. In any event, his consciousness betrayed him, and away
he went in the darkness of dream: The Ferryman of the Hun was
poling away at the stream and he, John Morning, was but one of a
company in passage. It was not the Hun river this time; the sorrel
Eve was not there. Not alone the Ferryman, but all on board were
lepers—he, John Morning in the midst of them, a leper. The old
wound was witness to this.... They tried to land at the little towns but
natives came forth and drove them away. Down, down stream they
went and always natives came forth to warn them as they neared the
land.... Even when they drew in to the marshes and the waste-places
natives appeared and stoned them away.... And so they went down
—to the ocean and the storm and Morning opened his eyes.
Opposite, his back to the marble bar, his elbows braced against
the rail, stood Mr. Reever Kennard, watching him, and the look upon
the face of the famous correspondent was that of scornful pity—as if
there was a truce to an old enmity, no longer worth while.
Still later on that day, over on Second Avenue, Morning almost
bumped into a small yellow sign at the elevator entrance to the Metal
Workers’ Hall, to the effect that Duke Fallows was to address a
gathering there that night.

8
Aflash of love came to his heart for Duke Fallows at the sight of
the name. There was nothing maudlin about this; rather, a decent
bit of stamina in the midst of sentimental overflows. It was the actual
inside relation, having nothing to do with the old surface irritation....
Morning took care of himself as well as he could during the day. He
meant to mix with the crowd at the meeting, but not to make himself
known until he was free from vileness. He would keep track of the
other’s place and movements in New York. When he was fit—there
would be final restoration in the meeting. His heart thumped in
anticipation. The yellow poster had turned the corner for him. These
first thoughts of the upward trend are interesting:
He meant to cross the river and build a big fire in the cabin. There
he would fight it out and cleanse the place meanwhile, in
preparation. He pictured the cabin-door open, water on the floor, the
fire burning, the smell of soap. He would heat water, wash his
blankets, put them out in the sun; polish his kettles with water and
sand. Every detail was important, and how strangely his mind
welcomed the freshness of these simple thoughts. The glass of the
windows would flash in the morning, and the door of oak would
gleam with its oil.... Finally he would bring Duke there.
This was the triumph of it all. He would bring the sick man home;
tend the fire for him, go to the dairyman’s for milk and eggs. They
could call Jake and talk to him—seeing the heart of a simple man....
They would talk and work together ... the sick man looking up at the
ceiling, and he, Morning, at the machine as in the old days. Spring
would come, the big trees would break their buds and sprinkle the
refuse down—and, God, it would be green again—all this rot
ended.... So the days would pass quickly until Betty Berry came....
Duke would be glad to hear of her.
... That night Morning went in with the workers to their Hall and
sat far back. The meeting had been arranged under socialistic
auspices; seven hundred men at least were present. Through the
haze of pipe, cigarette, and cigars, Duke Fallows came forth.
And this was no sick man. His knees were strong, and there was
a lightness of shoulder that did away with the huddle of old times.
His eyes shone bright under the hanging lamp, and his laugh was as
far as Asia from scorn. There was brown upon him; his hands, when
they fell idle, were curved as if to fit a broad-ax, and “I’m glad to be
with you, men,” he said.