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.
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