the change in her appearance was extraordinary. This was no longer the flaunting hussy who had jeered at them in the road, but a broken, frightened woman. Her hair, as a rule so elaborately arranged, was tumbling untidily over her neck. She wore bedroom slippers and a skirt and blouse. They were unfresh and bedraggled. She stood at the door with the tears streaming down her face and did not dare to enter.
'What do you want?' said Mrs Davidson harshly.
'May I speak to Mr Davidson?' she said in a choking voice.
The missionary rose and went towards her.
'Come right in, Miss Thompson,' he said in cordial tones. 'What can I do for you?'
She entered the room.
'Say, I'm sorry for what I said to you the other day an' for--for everythin' else. I guess I was a bit lit up. I beg pardon.'
'Oh, it was nothing. I guess my back's broad enough to bear a few hard words.'
She stepped towards him with a movement that was horribly cringing.
'You've got me beat. I'm all in. You won't make me go back to 'Frisco?'
His genial manner vanished and his voice grew on a sudden hard and stern.
'Why don't you want to go back there?'
She cowered before him.
'I guess my people live there. I don't want them to see me like this. I'll go anywhere else you say.'
'Why don't you want to go back to San Francisco?'
'I've told you.'
He leaned forward, staring at her, and his great, shining eyes seemed to try to bore into her soul. He gave a sudden gasp.
'The penitentiary.'
She screamed, and then she fell at his feet, clasping his legs.
'Don't send me back there. I swear to you before God I'll be a good woman. I'll give all this up.'
She burst into a torrent of confused supplication and the tears coursed down her painted cheeks. He leaned over her and, lifting her face, forced her to look at him.
'Is that it, the penitentiary?'
'I beat it before they could get me,' she gasped. 'If the bulls grab me it's three years for mine.'
He let go his hold of her and she fell in a heap on the floor, sobbing bitterly. Dr Macphail stood up.
'This alters the whole thing,' he said. 'You can't make her go back when you know this. Give her another chance. She wants to turn over a new leaf.'
'I'm going to give her the finest chance she's ever had. If she repents let her accept her punishment.'
She misunderstood the words and looked up. There was a gleam of hope in her heavy eyes.
'You'll let me go?'
'No. You shall sail for San Francisco on Tuesday.'
She gave a groan of horror and then burst into low, hoarse shrieks which sounded hardly human, and she beat her head passionately on the ground. Dr Macphail sprang to her and lifted her up.
'Come on, you mustn't do that. You'd better go to your room and lie down. I'll get you something.'
He raised her to her feet and partly dragging her, partly carrying her, got her downstairs. He was furious with Mrs Davidson and with his wife because they made no effort to help. The half-caste was standing on the landing and with his assistance he managed to get her on the bed. She was moaning and crying. She was almost insensible. He gave her a hypodermic injection. He was hot and exhausted when he went upstairs again.
'I've got her to lie down.'
The two women and Davidson were in the same positions as when he had left them. They could not have moved or spoken since he went.
'I was waiting for you,' said Davidson, in a strange, distant voice. 'I want you all to pray with me for the soul of our erring sister.'
He took the Bible off a shelf, and sat down at the table at which they had supped. It had not been cleared, and he pushed the tea-pot out of the way. In a powerful voice, resonant and deep, he read to them the chapter in which is narrated the meeting of Jesus Christ with the woman taken in adultery.
'Now kneel with me and let us pray for the soul of our dear sister, Sadie Thompson.'
He burst into a long, passionate prayer in which he implored God to have mercy on the sinful woman. Mrs Macphail and Mrs Davidson knelt with covered eyes. The doctor, taken by surprise, awkward and sheepish, knelt too. The missionary's prayer had a savage eloquence. He was extraordinarily moved, and as he spoke the tears ran down his cheeks. Outside, the pitiless rain fell, fell steadily, with a fierce malignity that was all too human.
At last he stopped. He paused for a moment and said:
'We will now repeat the Lord's prayer.'
They said it and then; following him, they rose from their knees. Mrs Davidson's face was pale and restful. She