In an agony of guilt again he felt what he had said to Myra: "From now on I belong to those dead girls"--yes, and to their fellow-workers. Suddenly it seemed to him that he must see Sally Heffer--that to her he must carry the burden of his guilt--to her he must personally make answer to the terrible accusations she had voiced. It was all at once, as if only in this way could he go on living, that otherwise he would end in the insanity of the mad-house or the insanity of suicide.
He was walking down the stairs with Fannie, and he was trembling.
"Know her? We all do!" she cried, with all a young girl's enthusiasm.
"I want to see her, Fannie. Where does she live?"
"Oh, somewhere in Greenwich Village. But she'll be up at the Woman's League after the meeting."
He went up to the Woman's League and found the office crowded with women and men. He asked for Miss Heffer.
"I'll take your name," said the young woman, and then came back with the answer that "he'd have to wait."
So he took a seat and waited. He felt feverish and sick, as if he could no longer carry this burden with him. It seemed impossible to sit still. And yet he waited over an hour, waited until it was eight at night, all the gas-jets lit.
"You want to see Miss Heffer? Come this way."
He was led up a flight of stairs to a little narrow hall-room. Sally Heffer was there at a roll-top desk, still in her little brown coat--quiet, pale, her clear eyes remarkably penetrating. She turned.
He shook pitifully,... then he sat down, holding his hat in his hands.
"Well," she said, brusquely, "what do you want?"
"I heard you speak this afternoon." His face flickered with a smile.
He could say nothing; and she looked closer. She saw his gray face, his unsteady eyes, the tragedy of the broken man. Then she spoke with a lovely gentleness.
"Yes," he murmured, "I want to give--all."
She lowered her voice, and it thrilled him.
"It won't help to give your money--you must give yourself. We don't want charity."
He said nothing for a moment; and then strength rose in him.
"I'll tell you why I came.... I felt I had to.... I felt that you were accusing me. I know I am guilty. I have come here to be"--he smiled strangely--"sentenced."
She rose and took a step either way. She gazed on him, and suddenly she broke down and cried, her hands to her face.