the same towards them. She went over to the dresser and struck a match,
lighting the gas. Then she went back to the rocker to think.

It was some time before she could collect her thoughts, but when she
did, this truth began to take on importance. She was quite alone.
Suppose Drouet did not come back? Suppose she should never hear anything
more of him? This fine arrangement of chambers would not last long. She
would have to quit them.

To her credit, be it said, she never once counted on Hurstwood. She
could only approach that subject with a pang of sorrow and regret. For
a truth, she was rather shocked and frightened by this evidence of human
depravity. He would have tricked her without turning an eyelash. She
would have been led into a newer and worse situation. And yet she could
not keep out the pictures of his looks and manners. Only this one deed
seemed strange and miserable. It contrasted sharply with all she felt
and knew concerning the man.

But she was alone. That was the greater thought just at present. How
about that? Would she go out to work again? Would she begin to look
around in the business district? The stage! Oh, yes. Drouet had spoken
about that. Was there any hope there? She moved to and fro, in deep
and varied thoughts, while the minutes slipped away and night fell
completely. She had had nothing to eat, and yet there she sat, thinking
it over.

She remembered that she was hungry and went to the little cupboard in
the rear room where were the remains of one of their breakfasts. She
looked at these things with certain misgivings. The contemplation of
food had more significance than usual.

While she was eating she began to wonder how much money she had. It
struck her as exceedingly important, and without ado she went to look
for her purse. It was on the dresser, and in it were seven dollars in
bills and some change. She quailed as she thought of the insignificance
of the amount and rejoiced because the rent was paid until the end of
the month. She began also to think what she would have done if she had
gone out into the street when she first started. By the side of that
situation, as she looked at it now, the present seemed agreeable. She
had a little time at least, and then, perhaps, everything would come out
all right, after all.

Drouet had gone, but what of it? He did not seem seriously angry. He
only acted as if he were huffy. He would come back--of course he would.
There was his cane i