which made me
cower away like a whipped child. I had nothing left--nothing. For a
week I had listened to no kind word, met with no kind act. I was upon
the street, alone, at night, purposeless, homeless, wandering aimlessly
from place to place, weakened by hunger, stupefied by despair. Men spoke
to me, and I fled their presence as though they were pestilence; women,
painted, shameless creatures, greeted me in passing as one of their own
class, and I sought to avoid them. Once I mustered sufficient courage to
ask help, but--but the man only laughed, and called me a foul name. I do
not know where I went, what the streets were called. I remember the
brilliantly lighted hotel: the theater crowds jostling me on the
sidewalks; the saloons where I saw women slipping in through side
entrances, the strains of piano music jingling forth on the night air.
I--I knew what it meant, and lingered, faint and trembling, before one
illuminated front, like a fascinated bird, until a drunken man, reeling
forth, laid hand on my shoulder with proposal of insult. I broke away
from him, and ran into the dark, every nerve tingling."

She shuddered, catching her breath sharply.

"Then--then I found myself out among the residences, where everything was
still and lonely, walking, walking, walking, every shadow appearing like
a ghost. I sat down to rest on the curbing, but a policeman drove me
away; once I crept into a darkened vestibule in a big apartment building,
but another discovered me there, and threatened to take me to the
station. I did n't care much by that time, yet finally he let me go, and
I crept miserably on. I became afraid of the police; I felt as I suppose
criminals must feel; I slunk along in the dark shadows like a hunted
thing. The night grew misty and damp, but I found no shelter. I had no
will power left, no womanhood, no remorse; I had become a thing to play
with, a body without a soul. I had ceased to care, to think, to even
remember; I only wanted to drop the struggle, and have it over with.
Perhaps I should have taken my own life, had I only known how to
accomplish it--it seemed infinitely worse to live than to die. It was
thus I came there, to that corner. I heard the policeman approaching
along the side street, and, terrified, sprang into the yard to
escape--then--then, I met you."

Someone laughed at one of the other tables, and I wheeled about in my
chair. For an instant I believed her voice had be