"I couldn't: the strike was never settled, and, anyhow, they wouldn't have taken me back if I'd been willing to go."
Mary looked at the long coat and the gray hat.
"But, say," she began, "you don't look——"
Her eyes dropped to Carrie's and, suddenly, she knew. Her voice softened.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I had to do it, too."
Silently they touched hands. The Lithuanian's breast rose and fell quickly.
"I couldn't do anything else," said Carrie, but only in explanation, not in extenuation or excuse. "There was no other work I could do."
"I know," said Mary.
"And everywhere I went," continued Carrie, "he followed me. He was always just behind me when I walked, always just around the corner when I stood still. When I was dizzy and hungry, he always looked well fed and always had the money in his hand. He waited, waited, waited."
"You mean your fellow?" Mary asked.