heart of the residential district, the last belated cab had already
drifted by, leaving the silence profound, the loneliness complete. Two
blocks away a trolley-car swept past, an odd, violet light playing
along the wire, grotesque shadows showing briefly amid the enveloping
folds of vapor. The discordant clang of the gong died away into the
far distance. Crouching there in the shade of the wall I felt like a
criminal. Then, angry at myself, I advanced slowly forward, yet
keeping well under cover.

The light fell slanting across the stone steps in front, and revealed a
narrow opening through the brick coping beyond. I must pass that way
in reaching the street, but hesitated to go forward boldly. I could
see only a few feet in any direction, as the fog was thickening,
driving along the soaked pavement in dense gray clouds, already
beginning to blot from view the houses opposite. Another trolley-car,
dismally clanging its gong, paused a moment at some near-by corner, and
then passed noisily on. The way seemed clear, the street utterly
deserted, and, nerving myself to the effort, I crept cautiously
forward, until I crouched behind the brick coping. There was not a
disturbing sound, and I straightened up, essaying the first quick step
forth into the full gleam of the light. Like some confronting ghost,
scarcely more real than a phantom of imagination, I came face to face
with a woman.

She had turned swiftly into the narrow gateway leading through the
brick coping, hurrying silently as if pursued, her foot barely planted
upon the step when we met. I stopped, speechless, rigid, my
outstretched hand gripping the rail, but the woman drew hastily back,
her lips parted in a sudden sob of surprise, one hand flung out as if
in self-protection. It was instantaneous, yet before either could move