He had seen her in the middle of summer walking eastward with the light upon her poor pinched face. She always looked pretty much the same, pale and melancholy, decently clad, quiet and respectable. He had never spoken to her, for he was sure that she had been better days, and that it would vex her to know that she was noticed or watched.

He had never seen her walking with anybody. She was always alone, and her eyes had a far-away look, as if she was always thinking the same kind of thoughts.

One night in the previous November he had observed, to his surprise, that she was being followed – stealthily, and at a distance—and he kept his eye upon the follower as long as he could do so without leaving his section. The person following was a youngish man, slim, a little over the middle height, wearing a loose blue over-coat and a blue felt hat. He was puzzled by this fact, as there was nothing attractive about the young woman’s appearance or manner; and, while the man was obviously watching her, he made no attempt to stop her or to enter into conversation with her.

He followed for the most part on the opposite side of the road, and far enough in her rear to prevent his footsteps being heard by her.

The night was dry, but rough. There was a waning moon, which showed occasionally in the sky full of storm clouds.

There was a south-west wind, and the night was particularly mild for the season.

The moon was hidden now, and had been hidden for the last half hour. He could not see her, though he believed she was in front of him.

Hello! shouted, and ran as fast as his boots would let him.

She was gone. He paraded the neigh-bouring streets for the rest of his time, but could not meet her; and he never saw her again.