"You see," she said.
"It's a crime, you know."
"Have you any news of him?"
"Nothing new. It takes time to kill a man like that."
"I hope he is more fortunate than I am! It hasn't the effect that it did. It keeps my nerves sodden, but my brain is horribly clear. I no longer forget! And death is a long time coming. I am tired always, but I don't break."
"You shouldn't come to such places as this. If a man was drunk enough you couldn't discourage him."
"Oh, I have been spoken to in places like this and on the street by men in every stage of intoxication and by men who were quite sober. But I am able to take care of myself. This sort of man—the only sort I meet now—likes gay clothes and gay women."
"All the same it's not safe. Do you only go out at night?"
"Yes—I—I sleep in the daytime."
"Look here—I have a plan—I won't tell you what it is now—but meanwhile I wish you would promise me that you will not go out alone—to hells of this sort—again. I can make an arrangement for a while at the office to get off earlier, and I'll take you wherever you want to go. Is it a bargain?"