roughened surface was smeared with the blood. They stood together in
the small space in which the fog enclosed them--he and she--the man with
no To-morrow and the girl thing who seemed as old as himself, with her
sharp, small nose and chin, her sharp eyes and voice--and yet--perhaps
the fogs enclosing did it--something drew them together in an uncanny
way. Something made him forget the lost clew to the lodging-house--
something made him turn and go with her--a thing led in the dark.

"How can you find your way?" he said. "I lost mine."

"There ain't no fog can lose me," she answered, shuffling along by his
side; "'sides, it's goin' to lift. Look at that man comin' to'ards us."

It was true that they could see through the orange-colored mist the
approaching figure of a man who was at a yard's distance from them. Yes,
it was lifting slightly--at least enough to allow of one's making a
guess at the direction in which one moved.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"Apple Blossom Court," she answered. "The cawfee-stand's in a street
near it--and there's a shop where I can buy things."

"Apple Blossom Court!" he ejaculated. "What a name!"

"There ain't no apple-blossoms there," chuckling; "nor no smell of 'em.
'T ain't as nice as its nime is--Apple Blossom Court ain't."

"What do you want to buy? A pair of shoes?" The shoes her naked feet
were thrust into were leprous-looking things through which nearly all