"But why should you help me? I—I—Oh, I can't let you do it! You do not understand. I—have—committed—a—terrible—" she broke off with a groan.
"I understand," said the other, something like grimness in her level tones. "I have been tempted more than once myself." The enigmatic remark made no impression on the listener.
"I wonder how long ago it was that it all happened," muttered the girl, as if to herself. "It seems ages,—oh, such ages."
"Where have you been hiding since last night?" asked Mrs. Wrandall, throwing in the clutch. The car started forward with a jerk, kicking up the snow behind it.
"Was it only last night? Oh, I've been—" The thought of her sufferings from exposure and dread was too much for the wretched creature. She broke out in a soft wail.
"You've been out in all this weather?" demanded the other.
"I lost my way. In the hills back there. I don't know where I was."
"Had you no place of shelter?"
"Where could I seek shelter? I spent the day in the cellar of a farmer's house. He didn't know I was there. I have had no food."
"Why did you kill that man?"