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He shivered and looked behind as he stepped into his hansom. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. “For men have reason, women rhyme A man scores always, all the time. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean. "Maybe he realized that he was slipping fast and thought a fine action might give him a hand-hold on life again. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her.
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