CHAPTER XXXIV
SAVED

CHAPTER XXXV
CLOSING SCENES

CHAPTER XXXVI
LAST WORDS




CHAPTER I

THREE GIRLS



It was a very cold blustering day in early January, and even brilliant
thronged Broadway felt the influence of winter's harshest frown. There
had been a heavy fall of snow which, though in the main cleared from
the sidewalks, lay in the streets comparatively unsullied and
unpacked. Fitful gusts of the passing gale caught it up and whirled it
in every direction. From roof, ledges, and window-sills, miniature
avalanches suddenly descended on the startled pedestrians, and the air
was here and there loaded with falling flakes from wild hurrying
masses of clouds, the rear-guard of the storm that the biting
northwest wind was driving seaward.

It was early in the afternoon, and the great thoroughfare was almost