In the next street a breathless creature came running after her, a
tawdry, painted, dishevelled girl. She stopped Ideala and stood
panting, with hot dry lips, and eyes full of animal suffering. Her
clothes exhaled the smell of some vile scent that was overpowering.
Involuntarily Ideala shrank from her, and all the joy left her face.
"I've run"--the girl gasped--"such a way--they said you'd gone this
road. I've waited about all day to catch you. Come, for God's sake!"
"But where?"
"There's a girl dying"--and she clutched Ideala's arm, trying to drag
her along with her--"or she would die and have done with it, but she
can't till she's seen you. She've something on her mind--something to
tell you. Come, my lady, come, for the love of the Lord and the Blessed
Virgin. No harm'll happen to you." Ideala made a gesture. "Show me the
way," she said. "But you don't seem able to walk. There's an empty cab
coming. Get in and tell the man where to drive to."
They stopped at a row of many-storeyed houses in a low by-street. A
stout elderly woman with an evil countenance met them at the door.
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