I drew in my breath sharply, my lips set in a straight line. Already
had I half-suspicioned this truth, and yet there was that about the
girl--her manner, her words, even her dress--which would not permit me
to class her among the homeless, the city outcasts.

"You mean that you are actually upon the streets, with--with no place
to _go_?"

She did not answer, her head bowed, her face suddenly showing white and
haggard. I stared at her with swift realization.

"My God, girl! and--and I actually believe you are hungry!"

Her eyes uplifted to my face dumb with agony, her hand grasp upon the
rail tightening. Then she pitifully endeavored to smile.

"I--I am afraid I am, just a little." She acknowledged slowly, as
though the words were wrung out of her.

I straightened up, with shoulders flung back. All that was strong,
determined in my nature, came leaping to the surface. It was my time
to act.

"Then that settles it. You are coming with me. No! don't shake your
head; I shall have my way this time. There is a respectable all-night
place over there on Desmet Street. I ate there once a week ago. We
'll go together."

She drew back, still clinging helplessly to the rail, her eyes on my
face.