's why." She stooped and began picking up the
remnants of the lunch, placing spoons and glass bottles swiftly and
thriftily into the lunch box. Nap stepped around behind her.

"Let me help," he said. And then his arm was about her and his face
was close to hers, and Tessie did not like it. He kissed her after a
little wordless struggle. And then she knew. She had been kissed
before. But not like this. Not like this! She struck at him
furiously. Across her mind flashed the memory of a girl who had worked
in the finishing room. A nice girl, too. But that hadn't helped her.
Nap Ballou was laughing a little as he clasped her.

At that she heard herself saying: "I'll get Chuck Mory after you--you
drunken bum, you! He'll lick you black and blue. He'll----"

The face, with the ugly, broken brown teeth, was coming close again.
With all the young strength that was in her she freed one hand and
clawed at that face from eyes to chin. A howl of pain rewarded her.
His hold loosened. Like a flash she was off. She ran. It seemed to
her that her feet did not touch the earth. Over brush, through bushes,
crashing against trees, on and on. She heard him following her, but the
broken-down engine that was his heart refused to do the work. She ran
on, though her fear was as great as before. Fear of what might have
happened--to her, Tessie Golden, that nobody could even talk fresh to.
She gave a sob of fury and fatigue. She was stumbling now. It was
growing dark. She ran on again, in fear of the overtaking darkness.
It was easier now. Not so many trees and bushes. She came to a fence,
climbed over it, lurched as she landed, leaned against it weakly for
support, one hand on her aching heart. Before her was the Hatton summer
cottage, dimly outlined in the twilight among the trees.

A warm, flickering light danced in the window. Tessie stood a moment,
breathing painfully, sobbingly. Then, with an instinctive gesture, she
patted her hair, tidied her blouse, and walked uncertainly toward the
house, up the steps to the door. She stood there a moment, swaying
slightly. Somebody'd be there.

The light. The woman who cooked for them or the man who took care of
the place. Somebody'd----

She knocked at the door feebly. She'd tell 'em she had lost her way
and got scared when it began to get dark. She knocked again, louder
now. Footsteps. She braced herself and even arranged a crooked smile.
The door opened wide. O