he murmured. "All right. I want to hear." His whole body was
set for pain he knew must come.

Ann's eyes were full of terror, that terror that lives after terror,
the anguish of terror remembered. "It's awful to be alone with awful
thoughts," she whispered. "To be shut in with something you're
afraid of."

"I know--I know," he soothed her. "But you're going to tell me. Tell
_me_. And then you'll never be alone with it again."

"I've been afraid so much," she went on sobbingly. "Alone so much--with
things that frightened me. That night I was alone. All alone. And afraid.
You see I went and went and went. Just to be getting _away_. And at last
I was out in the country. And then I was afraid of _that_. I went in
something that seemed to be a barn. Hid in some hay--"

He gripped her arm as if it were more than he could stand. His face was
colorless.

"I almost went crazy. Why I think I _did_ go crazy--with fear. Being
alone. Being afraid."

He looked away from her. It seemed unfair to her to let himself see her
like that--her face distorted--unlovely--in the memory of it.

"When it came daylight I went to sleep. And when I woke up--when I woke
up--" She was laughing and sobbing together and it was some time before
he could quiet her. "When I woke up another man was bending over me--an
old man--so _old_--so--

"Oh, I suppose it was just that he was surprised at finding me there. But
I thought--I hadn't got over the night before--

"So again I went. Just went. Just to get away. And that was when I saw it
was life I'd have to get away from. That there wasn't any place in it for
me. That it meant being alone. Afraid. That it was just _that_--those
thick awful lips--that old man's eyes--Oh no--no--not that!"

She was fighting it with her hands--trying to push it away. It took both
tenderness and sternness to quiet her.

"So I hurried on,"--she told it in hurried, desperate way, as if fearful
she would not get it all told and would be left alone with it. "To find
a way. A place. I just wanted to find the way--the place--before
anything else could happen. I thought all the people who looked at me
_knew_. I thought there was nothing else for me--I thought there was
something wrong with me--and when I remembered what I had wanted--I
hated--hated them.

"I saw water--a bridge. On the bridge I looked down. I was going to--but
I couldn't, because a man was looking up at me. I hated him, too." She
paused. "Though I've tho