falling of the law, is a type that has made no history; but in the
hearts of men she is to be found with her ineffaceable record.

It was against the two women, against Mrs. Durlacher with her
damnable cunning, against the other with her still more damnable
fascination, that all the blinding acid of Sally's thoughts was cast.
The woman who had hoodwinked him with her lies about her husband,
the woman who had crept in, seizing the moment of his blindness--these
were the two people in the world whom she could willingly have
strangled with her little hands that gripped and loosened in the mad
emotion of her rage. Under her breath she muttered--hissing the
words--the vain things that she would do. All the civilized refinement
of humanity was burnt out of her. She was not human. She had lost
control. The thoughts that revelled in her brain were animal; the
savage fury of the beast starved of its food and then deprived of the
flesh and blood that are snatched from the very clutching of its claws.

It is not so far a call, even now, for this divine humanity, weaned
upon the nutritious food of intelligence, nursed in the refining lap
of civilization, to hark back, driven by one rush of events, to the
lowest forms of nature that exist. If, in the hour of death, seeking
immunity from peril, there live men who have trodden down the bodies
of women, beaten them with naked fists, severed arms from their
bleeding hands that held to safety in order that they might find their
own escape; then, surely it is no very wonderful thing for a woman,
threatened with the destruction of all her happiness, to give herself
over to the mad riot of murderous intent that shouts the cry of bloody
revolution through her brain!

In these moments nothing human could have been accounted for in Sally.
In these moments the fire of the enraged animal glittered in her eyes,
the incoherent mutterings of dumb passion vibrated in her breath.

A man passing down through the dark shadows of the alley into the
street, turned and gazed at her. She took no notice. Did not even
see him. The car was just beginning to move out into the traffic.
As it turned, too eager to follow it, she stepped on to the pavement.

Traill's eyes caught her then, saw her begin to quicken her steps,
break even into a run following their tardy progress as they squeezed
a way through the press of other vehicles. He looked out through the
small, square window in the back of the hood and