"Then he was gone two days and nights leaving me alone. He reappeared
the third evening in the worst condition I had ever seen him. He acted
like a veritable savage, cursing and striking at me, and finally drove
me from the house, flourishing a revolver in my face, and locking the
door behind me. I--I sat there on the steps an hour, and endeavored to
go back, but there was no response. I walked the streets, and
then--having a little money with me--found a place to lodge. The next
day I went back, but the flat was locked still, and neighbors said my
husband had left with a traveling bag. I--I was actually thrown out
upon the streets to starve."

Her voice lowered, so that I was compelled to lean closer to catch the
rapidly spoken words.

"At first I--I was not altogether sorry. I thought it would be easy to
find work. I was not afraid of that--but--but it was not easy. Oh!
how hard I tried. I faced open insult; cowardly insinuation; brutal
coarseness. I never dreamed before how men could treat women seeking
honorable employment. Scarcely a courteous word greeted me. Refusal
was blunt, imperative, or else, in those cases where vague
encouragement was given, it was so worded as to cause my withdrawal in
shame. If I had been skilled in any business line my reception might
have been different; if I possessed recommendations, or could have
frankly confessed the truth, perhaps I might have been given a chance.
But as it was everywhere, suspicion was aroused by my reticence, my
inability to explain, and the interview ended in curt dismissal, or
suggestive innuendo."

She paused again, her bosom rising and falling, her cheeks flushed.