street. I collapse there. You find me. I tell you my name is
Charlotte Green. That's all you know. There isn't much chance
that anybody at the hospital would recognize me. I've got money.
I take a private room. Don't you understand?"

Rhoda Gray's face had gone a little white. There was no doubt about
the woman's serious condition, and yet - and yet - She stood there
hesitant. There must be some other way! It was not likely even
that the woman had strength enough to walk down the stairs to begin
with. Strange things had come to her in this world of shadow, but
none before like this. If the law got the woman it would cost the
woman her life; if the woman did not receive immediate and adequate
medical assistance it would cost the woman her life. Over and over
in her brain, like a jangling refrain, that thought repeated itself.
It was not like her to stand hesitant before any emergency, no
matter what that emergency might be. She had never done it before,
but now...

"For God's sake," Gypsy Nan implored, "don't stand there looking at
me! Can't you understand? If I'm caught, I go out. Do you think
I'd have lived in this filthy hole if there had been any other way
to save my life? Are you going to let me die here like a dog? Get
me my clothes; oh, for God's sake, get them, and give me the one
chance that's left!"

A queer little smile came to Rhoda Gray's lips, and her shoulders
straightened back.

"Where are your clothes?" she asked.