dark and velvety as almost to appear black, while masses of dark hair
clustered in heavy waves round her forehead.

Unconsciously Leroy raised his hat as he repeated his question. She
shook her head at him as he bent over her, but made no reply.

"How is it you are out on such a night as this?" he asked. "Have you no
home? Where do you live?"

"Cracknell Court, Soho," she replied, in tones singularly free from any
trace of Cockney accent.

"With your parents?" queried Leroy, feeling for some money.

"No," said the girl, her red lips quivering for a moment. "Haven't got
any--only Johann and Martha--and _they_ don't care."

"Who is Johann?" said Leroy, with an encouraging smile.

"I don't know," she answered listlessly. "He's Johann Wilfer, that's
all."

"Why have you run away, then?"

"Johann came home drunk and beat me--so I ran out."

She pushed back her ragged shawl and held up her arm, on which bruises
showed up cruelly distinct. Leroy uttered an exclamation of anger.

"You poor child!" he said almost tenderly. "What can I do for you? If I