The unshaven man drew back from the expression of the legless man, in whose face it was as if all the fires of hell had suddenly burst into flame. The unshaven man covered the breast of his threadbare coat with outstretched hands as if to shield himself from some suddenly bared weapon. His eyes blinked, but did not falter.
"Say," he said presently, after drawing a deep breath, "if she could see you once."
"If I don't know," said the legless man, "how Satan felt after the fall, nobody does. The things I've been--the things I've seen--back there--down here--the things I've lost--the things I've found! Hell's Bell's, Johnson! what is it you want--food?--drink?--a woman?"
The unshaven man's eyes shone with an unholy light.
"What would you do for twenty-five dollars?"
The unshaven man said nothing. He looked everything.
"Do you know the McIver woman?"
"Fanny?"
The legless man granted. "Yes. Fanny. She'll look at you if you've got money."
"She'd crawl through a sewer to find a dime."