e and betraying, was lacking from
the characterless mouth, yet the major--sweet-minded, clean-living old
man though he was--knew at a glance what manner of woman he had found
here in this lodging house. It was the face of a woman who never
intentionally does any evil and yet rarely gets a chance to do any
good--a weak, indecisive, commonplace face; and every line in it was a
line of least resistance.

That then was what these two saw in each other as they stared a moment
across the intervening space. It was the girl who took the initiative.

"Are you one of the police?" Then instantly on the heels of the query:
"No; I know better'n that--you ain't no police!"

Her voice was unmusical, vulgar and husky from much weeping. Magically,
though, she had checked her sobbing to an occasional hard gulp that
clicked down in her throat.

"No, ma'am," said Major Stone, with a grave and respectful courtesy, "I
am not connected with the police department. I am a professional
man--associated at this time with the practice of journalism. I have the
apartment or chamber adjoining yours and, accidentally overhearing a
member of the opposite sex in seeming distress, I took it upon myself to
offer any assistance that might lie within my power. If I am intruding I
will withdraw."

"No," she said; "it ain't no intrusion. I wisht, please, sir, you'd come
in jest a minute anyway. I feel like I jest got to talk to somebody a
minute. I'm sorry, though, if I disturbed you by my cryin'--but I jest
couldn't help it. Last night and the night before--that was the first
night I come here--I cried all night purty near; but I kept my head in
the bedclothes. But tonight, after it got dark up here and me layin'
here all alone, I felt as if I couldn't stand it no longer. Honest, I
like to died! Right this minute I'm almost plum' distracted."

The major advanced a step.

"I assure you I deeply regret to learn of your unhappiness," he said.
"If you desire it I will be only too glad to summon our worthy landlady,
Miss--Miss----" he paused.

"Miss La Mode," she said, divining--"Blanche La Mode--that's my name. I
come from Indianapolis, Indiana. But please, mister, don't call that
there woman. I don't want to see her. For a while I didn't think I
wanted to see nobody, and yit I've known all along, from the very first,
that sooner or later I'd jest naturally have to talk to somebody. I knew
I'd jest have to!" she repeated with a kind of weak intensity. "