She wondered afterward that she had not done this, but she was too morbid, too
close upon absolute insanity, to do what was wise and safe. She simply
yielded to the wild impulse to escape, to cower, to hide from every human eye,
hastening through the darkest, obscurest streets, not caring where. In the
confusion of her mind she would retrace her steps, and soon was utterly lost,
wandering she knew not whither. As it grew late, casual passers-by looked
after her curiously, rough men spoke to her, and others jeered. She only
hastened on, driven by her desperate trouble like the wild, ragged clouds that
were flying across the stormy March sky.

At last a policeman said gruffly, "You've passed me twice. You can't be
roaming the streets at this time of night. Why don't you go home?"

Standing before him and wringing her hands, she moaned, "I have no home."

"Where did you come from?"

"Oh, I can't tell you! Take me to any place where a woman will be safe."

"I can't take you to any place now but the station house."

"But can I be alone there? I won't be put with anybody?"

"No, no; of course not! You'll be better off there. Come along. 'Taint far."

She walked beside him without a word.

"You'd better tell me something of your story. Perhaps I can do more for you
in the morning."