With a growl the man loosed his hold, and feeling herself free Esther rushed through the open doorway. Her feet flew up the wooden steps and she ran out of the street. So shaken were her nerves that the sight of some men drinking in a public-house frightened her. She ran on again. There was a cab-stand in the next street, and to avoid the cabmen and the loafers she hastily crossed to the other side. Her heart beat violently, her thoughts were in disorder, and she walked a long while before she realised that she did not know where she was going. She stopped to ask the way, and then remembered there was no place where she might go. She would have to spend the night in the workhouse, and then? She did not know.... All sorts of thoughts came upon her unsolicited, and she walked on and on. At last she rested her burden on the parapet of a bridge, and saw the London night, blue and gold, vast water rolling, and the spectacle of the stars like a dream from which she could not disentangle her individuality. Was she to die in the star-lit city, she and her child; and why should such cruelty happen to her more than to the next one? Steadying her thoughts with an effort, she said, "Why not go to the workhouse, only for the night?... She did not mind for herself, only she did not wish her boy to go there. But if God willed it...." She drew her shawl about her baby and tried once more to persuade herself into accepting the shelter of the workhouse. It seemed strange even to her that a pale, glassy moon should float high up in the sky, and that she should suffer; and then she looked at the lights that fell like golden daggers from the Surrey shore into the river. What had she done to deserve the workhouse? Above all, what had the poor, innocent child done to deserve it? She felt that if she once entered the workhouse she would remain there. She and her child paupers for ever. "But what can I do?" she asked herself crazily, and sat down on one of the seats.