of uncertainties lay before her. There were four changes and four long waits of varying length, in four strange towns along her circuitous route, before she connected finally with the last train, due in Ridgefield at seven thirty-two, that evening. There was a very likely possibility that she might fail to connect with one of the trains. The thought of spending another night in an unknown town made Reba grip hold tight of the nickel-finished seat-arm.
Ten dollars would not last indefinitely! How did one pawn things, if it should come to that? And where? And were pawn-shops open on Sunday? Unbelievable, and yet consistent with all that had gone before, she supposed that she should find herself contemplating such a contingency. She shuddered slightly inside her warm yellow coat. Why did the conductor look at her so sharply when he took her ticket? Why did that man sitting alone three seats ahead keep turning around? And what were the two women in the seat opposite thinking of her when they stared at her crumpled yellow finery, and whispered afterwards? What were they thinking of her back at the Alliance? They, whose opinions she valued so highly, what were they saying? What were they suspicioning?
Nothing very dreadful. Reba could have been spared much of her suffering that Sunday had she known that Mamie had slept over until noon that day, and when she did burst into Reba's room, at about one o'clock, to borrow a safety-pin, had thought nothing of the undisturbed bed. It presented to her eyes its usual Sunday-noon appearance. There was no hectic search at all for Rebecca Jerome at the Women's
