"Oh, what’s the matter with me?" she groaned. "Why did that fool boy come here to-night, telling me that it would bring him to the gallows stained to the bone with the dye of hell, and that _I_ must keep her in the right road—me? Huh, me keep a girl in the right track, so they can keep on saying I’m the only scab on the body of the community? I won’t; by all the powers above and below, _I won’t_! She can look out for herself, even if it _does_ ruin an idiot of a man and pull him—It really _would_ ruin him, though. Maybe it would ruin _me_. Maybe he’s right and I ought to make a life business of saving others from what I’ve been through—saving even my enemies. Christ said it; there is no doubt about that. He said it. He never had to go through with what I have, though, for He was free from the desire to fight, but He meant that one thing, as the one great law of life—_the only law of life_! Oh, God, I must do something! I must either save the girl or let it go on. I don’t know which to do, as God is my creator, I don’t actually know which to do. I don’t—I don’t—I don’t—really—know—which—I _want_ to do. That’s it—I don’t know which I _want_ to do. I’m simply crazy to-night. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve always been able to tell whether I wanted, or didn’t want, a thing, but now—" She turned over on her side. Then she sat up, staring at the clock. Next she put her feet on the floor and stood erect. "I won’t," she said, between set teeth. "I won’t. Before God, and all the imps of hell I’ll not meddle with it. It’s Jane Hemingway’s business to look after her silly girl, and not mine." She went again to the porch and stood staring out into the white moonlight. The steady beat of the hoofs of Luke King’s horse, dying out on the still night, came to her. Dear, dear boy! he did love the girl and he never would be the same again—never. It would mean his downfall from the glorious heights he had climbed. He would grapple as a wild beast with the despoiler, and, as he said, go willingly to his own end? Yes, that was Luke King; he had preached of the rugged road to heaven, he would take the easier way to hell, and laugh in his despair at the whole thing as a joke of fate. Before she knew it, Ann found herself out at her gate. Forces within her raised her hand to the latch and pushed her body through.