The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1893-12-22

blows, enough starvationl The brute-the
brutel Oh, seem still to see his red, sod,
den face so near-his surly curses ring and
ring in my brain. Baby, do you think
they've found him yet? 1t wasn't our fault,
was it, that he stumbled and went over the
stairsS Six fights downright He is ly-
ing there in the shadow can see him--I
can see him-still--so still-alone. He must
be dead. Yes, he must be-
She laughed and thesound was strange
mournful- cooling that seemed to rise from
the ruins of soul.
|. Terror enlarged her eyes as through the
proach-a man she knew.
Hello, Nancel What are you dom out
In the storm, hey2" he asked kindly.
Nance2 Yes, it was she-three years old
er, three years sadder.
"It's Christmas eye," faltered, fore
Ing a smile, land wanted to show Teddy
the shops, the crowds"
SCOT bruise on your face againS Rad
ley's at his old tricks, chr It'd be good for
you If he died"
He did not guess what horror his words
had aroused, but she bent her pinched,
tremulous mouth down to the pale child's
face, nodded and hurried past him.
"See that. girl?" the officer asked of a
friend who strolled up to him. ''I've been
watching her go down, step by step. This
New York's queer place, terrible place.
/ sometimes stand on my beat here and
watch the people pass. l know lots OF
them, and more about them than they
think Well, that girl just gone by has
made bad job of her life, a bad mess of
it."
"She's pretty still, only Bit hungry look
ing and scared The baby hers2" asked
the listener.
Eyes, the poor kid heard her tell her
story once to a police judge when her
scamp of husband was up for street fight
ing and she tried to get him off. 1t was
like this: Three years ago she was singing
on the stage, and as pretty as a rose her
face was. remember seeing her in The
Mikado.' Pretty? Well, that isn't the
word for it. She had such baby look in
her eyes and round her lips you'd never
thought man could have had the heart to
scold her, much less beat her. Well, she
fell sick and lost her voice. She was all
alone in the world and poor into the bar
gain. When she was hard up and des-
perate, she somehow met that fellow Rad
ley, who was mixed up with so many racing
swindles few years ago. He was flush
WIFI money, lIulUstUeu ~t0e SWeilS, lieu 10
her, guess. and persuaded her to marry
him. Luck was against her. He lost ev-
cry penny when Lady Betty went under in
the Suburban, and then he became like
fend, went from bad to worse, and now he
has hardly sober moment. They live in
terriblei hole down by the bridge. He
beats that poor little wife of his. Some
night he'll kill her,.
BY the time this brief recital of her sad
history was finished Nance had gone some
distance up Broadway-a strange, hopeless
figure among the busy crowd.
In the shelter of doorway she counted
her last coins. There were just rs cents.
When they were gone, what was left2 All,
whatP Nance knew. She was taking her
farewell of life today, and she would take
1t grandly, lavishly, spending all.
1t was this feeling of reckless finality
that made her hail car and sink into
corner. At another time she would have
suffered much before spending the money
required for fare, but it seemed small
consideration in view of this being the last
time.
The familiar streets were coming. Soon
they would psss the theater where she sang
three years before An uncontrollablem
netism to the spot made her alight and
stand looking up at the brilliant crystal
lantern in the lobby. How long ago the
life there seemed Was it only years since
she had seen Mark Lorancef Not centuries
since that white. winter nightS Not anoth