A pity you did not think to tell me that part of the tale at the outset. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. She was on the rim of civilization, entering, as Spurlock was on the rim, preparing to make his exit. "Any price was better than your head. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. Jim is up to the neck in Mahatmas and Theosophy and Higher Thought and rot—writes letters worse than Alice. "I haven't any answer for that; but I'm going back after her. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. Members of the crowd looked over their shoulders and stared at her through the smoky haze.
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