“Say, lady,” he drawled, on approaching her, “I think them two fellas is tough. You stay here by me. I’ll not let no one get fresh with you.”
Languidly he went back to his former position and occupation, but when after long waiting, the train drew in he unhooked his feet again from the chain, rose lazily, and accompanied Letty across the otherwise empty platform.
“Say, brother,” he said to the conductor, “don’t let any fresh guy get busy with this lady. She’s alone, and timid like.”
“Sure thing,” the conductor replied, closing the doors as Letty stepped within. “Sit in this corner, lady, next to me. The first mutt that wags his jaw at you’ll get it on the bean.”
Letty dropped as she was bidden into the corner, dazed by the brilliant lighting, and the greasy unoccupied seats. She was alone in the car, and the kindly conductor having closed his door she felt a certain sense of privacy. The train clattered off into the darkness.
Where was she going? Why was she there? How was she ever to accomplish the purpose with which two hours earlier she had stolen away from East Sixty-seventh Street? Was it only two hours earlier? It seemed like two years. It seemed like a space of time not to be reckoned....
She was tired as she had never been tired in her life. Her head sank back into the support made by the corner.
“There’s quite a trick to it,” she found herself repeating, though in what connection she scarcely knew. “An awful wicked lydy, she is, what’d put madam up to all the ropes.” These words too drifted through her mind, foolishly, drowsily, without obvious connection. She began to wish that she was home again in the little back spare room—or anywhere—so long as she could lie down—and shut her eyes—and go to sleep....