from a broken chain, looked exceedingly lovely.

"Then I won't leave you alone," I said manfully, and we stumbled on
together. Thus far we had seen nobody from the wreck, but well up
the lane we came across the tall dark woman who had occupied lower
eleven. She was half crouching beside the road, her black hair
about her shoulders, and an ugly bruise over her eye. She did not
seem to know us, and refused to accompany us. We left her there at
last, babbling incoherently and rolling in her hands a dozen pebbles
she had gathered in the road.

The girl shuddered as we went on. Once she turned and glanced at
my bandage. "Does it hurt very much?" she asked.

"It's growing rather numb. But it might be worse," I answered
mendaciously. If anything in this world could be worse, I had never
experienced it.

And so we trudged on bareheaded under the summer sun, growing parched
and dusty and weary, doggedly leaving behind us the pillar of smoke.
I thought I knew of a trolley line somewhere in the direction we were
going, or perhaps we could find a horse and trap to take us into
Baltimore. The girl smiled when I suggested it.

"We will create a sensation, won't we?" she asked. "Isn't it queer
--or perhaps it's my state of mind--but I keep wishing for a pair
of gloves, when I haven't even a hat!"

When we reached the main road we sat down for a moment, and her
hair, which had been coming loose for some time, fell over her