“One day I watched and waited for Edmund as usual. Night came, but no Edmund; all night I waited by the window for that form to appear. Daylight broke in all its freshness and glory only to find me still longing for the loving caress on which I had learned to exist. Long days and dreary nights dragged slowly enough. I could not imagine why Edmund did not return or at least write me. I listened for the familiar step along the hall, and when exhaustion compelled me to seek rest and sleep, I would dream of rivers of dirty, black water, and finally awoke from some horrible nightmare screaming for Edmund. I did not lose faith in him and I thank God for that. I knew some terrible calamity had befallen him, but silly little goose that I was, dared not tell anyone nor try to find him. Each day the sun rose with more spots on it, each night was darker than the preceding one; every hour brought more misery and desolation to my young heart and with nothing to console or encourage me, I almost cried my eyes out. I had no appetite, consequently at the end of three weeks I was a fit subject for a dime museum. Oh, I looked terrible! At that time I was confronted with a new trouble which absorbed some of my time and attention. When Edmund went away he left very little money in the house and I was suddenly brought face to face with the fact that I was almost penniless. My maid of all work left at this stage, and I was entirely alone in my misery. “For three days and nights I had not a bite to eat, then a strange thing happened; a woman came to my house and asked me if I would rent her and her husband a room. She was a handsome, dignified, well dressed woman and offered to pay liberally and in advance. I hesitated, not because I thought of refusing but for the reason that I was faint and hungry and not strong enough to talk glibly; the woman mistook my slowness of reply. She thought I was afraid she would not pay, whereupon she took from her purse a roll of bills greater than I had ever before seen, at the same time asking me how much I wanted for the front room. Visions of loaded tables, steaming dishes and dainty salads rushed past my eyes while the aroma of hot coffee seemed to fill my nostrils until my wasted frame shook with an excited hunger. I managed to state a price. She paid me and went to bring her trunks. Oh, at last, I could have something to eat; I could regale myself with food such as I had not tasted for days. I went to my room to dress thinking it best to go to a restaurant. Fortunately I had given my roomer a key and when she returned that night she found me where I had fallen, half dressed on the floor of my room, while clasped tightly in my hand were the crumpled bills she had given me. I battled long and hard with a fever, all the time calling for Edmund. At last the fever broke, leaving me a poor, emaciated wreck. The doctor told me I would be all right soon and added that I would soon be able to go to work.