ways that girl of Ned's! I'll show her!' And he
kicked me.

"George kicked me!...

"But my mother--she didn't laugh when she saw me. She was very scared.
She shook George, and said, 'George! Come away, quick! Look at her face!
Look at her eyes!' she said.

"Oh, my mother, my little mother. She thought I would hurt her. Even
when she'd been such a fool. I was the one that had to take care of her,
then. But she wanted to go away--with that man! That made me wild.

"'You, George!' I said, 'You've got to go! You've--you've done too much
to us!' I said. 'You go!' And 'Mother!' I said. 'You've got to leave
him! He's done too much to us!' I said.

"She only answered, 'George, come, quick!' And she dragged George toward
the door. And George laughed at me. Laughed and laughed--till he saw my
eyes. He didn't laugh then. Nor my mother. My mother screamed when she
saw my eyes. 'Shut up, George!' she screamed. 'She's not Ned's girl
now!' And George said, 'No, by God! She's _your_ brat now, all right!
She's the devil's own!'

"And they ran for the door. I tried to get there first, to catch my
little mother. My mother only screamed, as if she were wild. And they
got out--out in the dark. 'Mother!' I cried. 'Mother! Come back, come
back!' No answer. My mother was gone.

"Oh, that made me feel, somehow, very strong. 'I'll bring you back!' I
shouted. 'You, George! I'll send you away. Wait and see!' They never
answered. Maybe they never heard. The wind was blowing, like to-night.

"But I knew where I could find them. I knew where to go to find George.
And I ran to my loft, for my knife. But, O my God, when I saw poor
Mollie in the glass! Teeth gone. I wasn't beautiful any more. And my
eyes!--they came out of the glass at me, like two big dogs jumping a
fence. I ran from them. I didn't know myself. I ran out of the door, in
the night. I went after that man. He had done too much. That storm--the
lightning that night! Awful! But no storm kept me back. Rain--hail--but
I kept on. Trees fell--but I went on. I called out. I laughed then,
myself. I'll get him! I say, 'Look out for Ned's girl! Look out for
Ned's girl!' I say...."

Unconsciously the woman was re-enacting every gesture, repeating every
phrase and accent of her journey through the night, that excursion out
of the world, from which there had been no return for her. "Look out for
Ned's girl!"--the house rang with the cry. But this second journey, of
the memory, ended in a mo