g, she found herself once more on the sidewalk and began to
breathe more freely. The die was cast now. She was leaving all this
mud and grime and was gambling on a faint chance of rest and comfort,
with her dead mother's engagement ring, the very last thing of any
value that she had hitherto managed to keep. It was scarcely happiness
that she expected to find. If only this man might be good to her, if
only he placed her beyond danger of immediate want, if only he treated
her with a little consideration, life would become bearable again!

As she walked along the avenue the pangs of hunger came to her,
keenly. For once she would have a sufficient meal! She entered a
restaurant and ordered lavishly. Hot soup, hot coffee, hot rolls, a
dish of steaming stew with mashed potatoes, and finally a portion of
hot pudding, furnished her with a meal such as she had not tasted for
months and months. A sense of comfort came to her, and she placed five
cents on the table as a tip to the girl who had waited on her. She was
feeling ever so much better as she went out again. She had spent fifty
cents for one meal, like a woman rolling in wealth. At a delicatessen
shop she purchased a loaf of bread and a box of crackers, with a
little cold meat. She knew that meals on trains were very expensive.

As she reached the station she felt that she had burned her bridges
behind her. She could never come back, since the few dollars that were
left would never pay for her return.

"But I'm not coming back," she told herself grimly. "I'm my own master
now."

She felt the bottom of her little bag. Yes, the pistol was there, a
protector from insult or a means towards that end she no longer
dreaded.

"No! I'll never come back!" she repeated to herself. "I'll never see
this city again. It--it's been too hard, too cruelly hard!"

The girl was glad to sit down at last on one of the big benches in the
waiting-room. It was nice and warm, at any rate, and the seat was
comfortable enough. Her arm had begun to ache from carrying the bag,
and she had done so much running about that her legs felt weary and
shaky. A woman sitting opposite looked at her for an instant and
turned away. There was nothing to interest any one in the garments
just escaping shabbiness, or in the pale face with its big dark-rimmed
eyes. People are very unconscious, as a rule, of the tragedy, the
drama or the comedy being enacted before their eyes.

Gradually Madge began to feel a s