I do not believe I am weak as compared with others.
Never before have I had any occasion to question the supremacy of my
will, yet I learned a lesson last night--that I am not a saint. I
actually faced crime, and it did not even look horrible to me! it
appeared justified. Even now, sitting here with you, I cannot believe
I was wicked. You will not misconstrue my words, but--but life is not
always the same, is it? How inexpressibly cruel a great city may be
with glaring wealth flaunting itself in the pinched face of poverty.
How can I help being rebellious now that I have seen all this through
hungry eyes?"

Her hands were clasped above her plate, the slender fingers
intertwined. I was looking at her so intently forgot to answer.

"I--I am glad I met you," she said frankly. "I--I think you have saved
me from myself."

"You asked me my name," I broke in eagerly. "Would you mind telling me
who you are?"

"I?" the clear cheeks reddening. "Why, I am only a fool."

"Then there is, at least, one tie between us. But, if we are to remain
friends I must know how to address you."

Her red lips parted doubtfully, her brow wrinkling.

"Yes, and we cannot afford to be conventional, can we? I am Viola
Bernard."

"I knew a girl once by that name; ages ago it seems now. A little
thing in short skirts, but I thought her rather nice. I believe we are
inclined to like names associated with pleasant memories. So I am glad
your name is Viola."

"It was my mother's name," she said quietly, her eyes downcast, "and I
am not sorry you like it." She stirred the coffee in her cup, watching
the bubbles rise to the surface. "I feel more confidence in you than I
did, because you have been so honest about yourself."

"I have told you the truth. I think I comprehend one trait, at least,
of your character--you would never again trust one who had deliberately
deceived you."

She did not remove her eyes from the cup, nor appear to note my
interruption, but continued gravely:

"I must tell my story to someone; I can fight fate alone no longer.
Perhaps I may not confess everything, for I do not know you well enough
for that, but enough, at least, so you will no longer suspect that I--I
am a bad woman."

"I could never really believe that."

"Oh, yes, you could. I have read in your face that my character
puzzles you. You invited me to drink a cocktail to try me. Don't
protest, for really I do not wonder at it, or blame