s the first time in all these months that he had
ventured to approach her. It was clear that he now meant to accost her,--he
might even contemplate violence! She wanted to run, but her feet refused
to obey the impulse. Fascinated she watched the unsteady figure lurching
toward her, and the white face growing more and more distinct and
forbidding as it came out of the darkness. Suddenly she was released from
the spell. Like a flash she darted toward the taxi-cab. From behind came a
hoarse cry.

"Lutie! For God's sake--"

"Quick!" she cried out to the driver. "Open the door! Be quick!"

The engine was throbbing. She looked back. George was supporting himself
by clinging to one of the awning rods. His legs seemed to be crumbling
beneath his weight. Her heart smote her. He had no overcoat. It was a bare
hand that gripped the iron rod and a bare hand that was held out toward
her. Thank heaven, he had stopped there! He was not coming on.

"Lutie! Oh, Lutie!" came almost in a wail from his lips. Then he began to
cry out something incoherent, maudlin, unintelligible.

"Never mind him," said the driver reassuringly. "Just a souse. Wants to
make a touch, madam. Streets are full of 'em these cold nights. He won't
bone you while I'm here. Where to?" He was holding the door open.

Lutie hesitated. Long afterwards she recalled the strange impulse that
came so near to sending her back to the side of the man who cried out to
her from the depths of a bottomless pit. Something whispered from her
heart that _now was her time_,--_now_! And then came the loud cry from her
brain, drowning the timid voice of the merciful: "Wait! Wait! Not now! To-
morrow!"

And while she stood there, uncertain, held inactive by the two warring
emotions, George turned and staggered away, reeling, and crying out in a
queer, raucous voice.

"They'll get him," said the driver.

"Who will get him?" cried Lutie, shrilly.

"The police. He--"

"No! No! It must not be _that_. That's not what I want,--do you hear,
driver? Not that. He must not be locked up--Oh!" George had collapsed. His
knees went from under him and he was half-prostrate on the curb. "Oh! He
has fallen! He has hurt himself! Go and see, driver. Go at once." She
forgot the sleet and the wind, and stood there wide-eyed and terrified
while the man shuffled forward to investigate. She hated him for stirring
the fallen man with his foot, and she hated him when he shook him
violently with his ha