'There's a woman asleep on the steps—a white woman.'
Jim Dennis clutched her arm.
'A white woman,' he repeated in a hoarse voice.
'Dress and go out to her,' said Sal.
Jim Dennis put on his clothes mechanically; he dreaded he knew not what.
'A white woman,' he muttered, 'and she has tramped it here.'
He went out in a hesitating kind of way.
'What is she like?' he asked quietly, but she noticed the tremor in his voice.
'Go and see. She is asleep. You can look at her face.'
He had not pulled on his boots, and he went quietly outside. He looked at the sleeping woman and staggered back as though he had been stabbed. He put his hand to his face to shut out the sight.