"You mean that you are actually upon the streets, with—with no place to go?"
She did not answer, her head bowed, her face suddenly showing white and haggard. I stared at her with swift realization.
"My God, girl! and—and I actually believe you are hungry!"
Her eyes uplifted to my face dumb with agony, her hand grasp upon the rail tightening. Then she pitifully endeavored to smile.
"I—I am afraid I am, just a little." She acknowledged slowly, as though the words were wrung out of her.
I straightened up, with shoulders flung back. All that was strong, determined in my nature, came leaping to the surface. It was my time to act.
"Then that settles it. You are coming with me. No! don't shake your head; I shall have my way this time. There is a respectable all-night place over there on Desmet Street. I ate there once a week ago. We 'll go together."
She drew back, still clinging helplessly to the rail, her eyes on my face.
"Oh! you must not—I—"
My hand touched her arm.