easy! But death took no form in her
imagination, as it does to one seeking it. She desired to forget and to
hide her intolerable losses; to have the impostor she felt herself to be
buried. As she walked along she held out her hands, murmuring, "Helpless!
useless!" It came upon her as a surprise that one like herself should be
allowed to live. "I don't want to," she said; and the neat moment, "I
wonder what a drowned woman is like?" She hurried back to the streets and
the shops. The shops failed now to give her distraction, for a stiff and
dripping image floated across all the windows, and she was glad to see
the shutters being closed; though, when the streets were dark, some
friendliness seemed to have gone. When the streets were quits dark, save
for the row of lamps, she walked fast, fearing she knew not what.

A little Italian boy sat doubled over his organ on a doorstep, while a
yet smaller girl at his elbow plied him with questions in English. Emilia
stopped before them, and the girl complained to her that the perverse
little foreigner would not answer. Two or three words in his native
tongue soon brought his face to view. Emilia sat down between them, and
listened to the prattle of two languages. The girl said that she never
had supper, which was also the case with the boy; so Emilia felt for her
purse, and sent the girl with sixpence in search of a shop that sold
cafes. The girl came back with her apron full. As they were all about to
eat, a policeman commanded them to quit the spot, informing them that he
knew both them and their dodges. Emilia stood up, and was taking her
little people away, when the policeman, having suddenly changed his
accurate opinion of her, said, "You're giving 'em some supper, miss? Oh,
they must sit down to their suppers, you know!" and walked away, not to
be a witness of this infraction of the law. So, they sat down and ate,
and the boy and girl tried to say intelligible things to one another, and
laughed. Emilia could not help joining in their laughter. The girl was
very anxious to know whether the boy was ever beaten, and hearing that he
was, she appeared better satisfied, remarking that she was also, but
curious still as to the different forms of chastisement they received.
This being partially explained, she wished to know whether he would be
beaten that night, Emilia interpreting. A grin, and a rapid whistle and
'cluck,' significant of the application of whips, told the state of his