n her hands. "I did not know--in all the world--anybody
was sorry. You can't be sorry--I'm a--"

I motioned Mrs. Mundy to go out. "Leave her with me," I said. "Come
back presently, but leave her awhile with me."

Going over to the window, I stood beside it until the choking sobs grew
fainter and fainter, and then, turning away, I drew two chairs close to
the fire and told Etta to come and sit by me. For a while neither of
us spoke, and when at last she tried to speak it was difficult to hear
her.

"I didn't mean to let go like that. I wouldn't have done it if you
hadn't said--you were sorry. You've no cause to be sorry for me. I'm
not worth it. I was crazy--to care as I cared. I ought to have known
gentlemen like him don't marry girls like me, but I didn't have the
strength to--to make him leave me, or to go away myself. And then one
day he told me it had to be a choice between him and the baby. He
seemed to hate the sight of the baby. He said I must send it away."
Swaying slightly, she caught herself against the side of the table
close to her, and again I waited. "She's a delicate little thing, and
I couldn't put her in a place where I didn't know how they'd treat her.
He told me it had to be one or the other--and I'd rather he'd killed me
than made me say which one. But I couldn't give the baby up. She
needed me."

"And then--" My voice, too, was low.

"He got mad and went away. I thought I hated him, but I can't hate
him. I've tried and I can't. When he came back and found where I was
living--" A long, low shiver came from the twisting lips. "About five
weeks ago I moved to where he was taken sick. And now--now he has gone
home again and I--" She got up as if the torment of her soul made it
impossible for her to sit still, and again she faced me. "It doesn't
matter what becomes of me. What do rich people and good people and
people who could change things care about us? And neither do they care
what we think of them, and specially of good women. Do you suppose we
think you really believe in the Christ who did not stone us? We don't.
We laugh at most Christians, spit at them. We know you don't believe
in Him or you'd remember what He said."

She turned sharply. Mrs. Mundy with Kitty behind her was at the door.
The latter hesitated, and, seeing it, Etta nodded to her. "Come in. I
won't hurt you. You need not be afraid."

Speaking first to Etta, Kitty kissed me, and I saw she had