But as she recognized him the expression faded and
she regarded him sadly.
"You see," she said.
"It's a crime, you know."
"Have you any news of him?"
"Nothing new. It takes time to kill a man like that."
"I hope he is more fortunate than I am! It hasn't the effect that it
did. It keeps my nerves sodden, but my brain is horribly clear. I no
longer forget! And death is a long time coming. I am tired always,
but I don't break."
"You shouldn't come to such places as this. If a man was drunk
enough you couldn't discourage him."
"Oh, I have been spoken to in places like this and on the street by
men in every stage of intoxication and by men who were quite sober.
But I am able to take care of myself. This sort of man--the only sort
I meet now--likes gay clothes and gay women."
"All the same it's not safe. Do you only go out at night?"
"Yes--I--I sleep in the daytime."
"Look here--I have a plan--I won't tell you what it is now--but
meanwhile I wish you would promise me that you will not go out alone--
to hells of this sort--again. I can make an arrangement for a while
at the office to get off earlier, and I'll take you wherever you want
to go. Is it a bargain?"
"Very well," she said indifferently. Then she smiled for the first
time, and her face looked sweet and almost girlish once more.
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