the white moll-第35部分

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to　give　up　everything；　her　own　good　name；　her　father's　name；　to　run
from　it　all　and　live　henceforth　in　hiding　in　some　obscure　place　far
away；　branded　in　the　life　she　would　have　left　behind　her　as　a
despicable　criminal　and　thief。　　And　she　could　not；　would　not；　do
this　while　her　intuition；　at　least；　inspired　her　with　the　faith　to
believe　that　there　was　still　a　chance　of　clearing　herself。　　It　was
the　throw　of　the　dice；　perhaps　…　but　there　was　no　other　way。
Danglar；　and　those　with　him；　were　at　the　bottom　of　the　crime　of
which　she　was　held　guilty。　　She　could　not　go　on　as　she　had　been
doing；　merely　in　the　hope　of　stumbling　upon　some　clew　that　would
serve　to　exonerate　her。　　There　was　not　time　enough　for　that。
Danglar's　trap　set　for　herself　and　the　Adventurer　last　night　in　old
Nicky　Viner's　room　proved　that。　　And　the　fact　that　the　woman　who
had　originally　masqueraded　as　Gypsy　Nan　…　as　she；　Rhoda　Gray；　was
masquerading　now　…　was　Danglar's　wife；　proved　it　a　thousandfold
more。　　She　could　no　longer　remain　passive；　arguing　with　herself
that　it　took　all　her　wits　and　all　her　efforts　to　maintain　herself
in　the　role　of　Gypsy　Nan；　which　temporarily　was　all　that　stood
between　her　and　prison　bars。　　To　do　so　meant　the　certainty　of
disaster　sooner　or　later；　and　if　it　meant　that；　the　need　for
immediate　action　of　an　offensive　sort　was　imperative。

And　so　her　mind　was　made　up。　　Her　only　chance　was　to　find　her　way
into　the　full　intimacy　of　the　criminal　band　of　which　Danglar　was
apparently　the　head；　to　search　out　its　lair　and　its　personnel；　to
reach　to　the　heart　of　it；　to　know　Danglar's　private　movements；　and
to　discover　where　he　lived　so　that　she　might　watch　him。　　It　surely
was　not　such　a　hopeless　task！　　True；　she　knew　by　name　and　sight
scarcely　more　than　three　of　this　crime　clique；　but　at　least　she　had
a　starting　point　from　which　to　work。　　There　was　Shluker's　junk　shop
where　she　had　turned　the　tables　on　Danglar　and　Skeeny　on　the　night
they　had　planned　to　make　the　Sparrow　their　pawn。　　It　was　obvious；
therefore；　that　Shluker　himself；　the　proprietor　of　the　junk　shop；
was　one　of　the　organization。　　She　was　going　to　Shluker's　now。

Rhoda　Gray　halted　suddenly；　and　stared　wonderingly　a　little　way　up
the　block　ahead　of　her。　　As　though　by　magic　a　crowd　was　collecting
around　the　doorway　of　a　poverty…stricken；　tumble…down　frame　house
that　made　the　corner　of　an　alleyway。　　And　where　but　an　instant
before　the　street's　jostling　humanity　had　been　immersed　in　its
wrangling　with　the　push…cart　men　who　lined　the　curb；　the　carts　were
now　deserted　by　every　one　save　their　owners；　whose　caution　exceeded
their　curiosity　…　and　the　crowd　grew　momentarily　larger　in　front　of
the　house。

She　drew　Gypsy　Nan's　black；　greasy　shawl　a　little　more　closely
around　her　shoulders；　and　moved　forward　again。　　And　now；　on　the
outskirts　of　the　crowd；　she　could　see　quite　plainly。　　There　were
two　or　three　low　steps　that　led　up　to　the　doorway；　and　a　man　and
woman　were　standing　there。　　The　woman　was　wretchedly　dressed；　but
with　most　strange　incongruity　she　held　in　her　hand；　obviously
subconsciously；　obviously　quite　oblivious　of　it；　a　huge　basket　full
to　overflowing　with；　as　nearly　as　Rhoda　Gray　could　judge；　all　sorts
of　purchases；　as　though　out　of　the　midst　of　abject　poverty　a　golden
shower　had　suddenly　descended　upon　her。　　And　she　was　gray；　and　well
beyond　middle　age；　and　crying　bitterly；　and　her　free　hand；　whether
to　support　herself　or　with　the　instinctive　idea　of　supporting　her
companion；　was　clutched　tightly　around　the　man's　shoulders。　　And
the　man　rocked　unsteadily　upon　his　feet。　　He　was　tall　and　angular；
and　older　than　the　woman；　and　cadaverous　of　feature；　and　miserably
thin　of　shoulder；　and　blood　trickled　over　his　forehead　and　down　one
ashen；　hollow　cheek　…　and　above　the　excited　exclamations　of　the
crowd　Rhoda　Gray　heard　him　cough。

Rhoda　Gray　glanced　around　her。　　Where　scarcely　a　second　before　she
had　been　on　the　outer　fringe　of　the　crowd；　she　now　appeared　to　be
in　the　very　center　of　it。　　Women　were　pushing　up　behind　her；　women
who　wore　shawls　as　she　did；　only　the　shawls　were　mostly　of　gaudy
colors；　and　men　pushed　up　behind　her；　mostly　men　of　swarthy
countenance；　who　wore　circlets　of　gold　in　their　ears；　and；　brushing
her　skirts；　seeking　vantage　points；　ragged；　ill…clad　children
wriggled　and　wormed　their　way　deeper　into　the　press。　　It　was　a　crowd
composed　almost　entirely　of　the　foreign　element　which　inhabited　that
quarter　…　and　the　crowd　chattered　and　gesticulated　with
ever…increasing　violence。　　She　did　not　understand。　　And　she　could　not
see　so　well　now。　　That　pitiful　tableau　in　the　doorway　was　being　shut
out　from　her　by　a　man；　directly　in　front　of　her；　who　had　hoisted　a
half…naked　tot　of　three　or　four　to　a　reserved　seat　upon　his　head。

And　then　a　young　man；　one　whom；　from　her　years　in　the　Bad　Lands　as
the　White　Moll；　she　recognized　as　a　hanger…on　at　a　gambling　hell　in
the　Chatham　Square　district；　came　toward　her；　plowing　his　way；
contemptuous　of　obstructions；　out　of　the　crowd。

Rhoda　Gray；　as　Gypsy　Nan；　hailed　him　out　of　the　corner　of　her　mouth。

〃Say；　wot's　de　row？〃　she　demanded。

The　young　man　grinned。

〃Somebody　pinched　a　million　from　de　old　guy！〃　　He　shifted　his
cigarette　with　a　deft　movement　of　his　tongue　from　one　side　of　his
mouth　to　the　other；　and　grinned　again。　　〃Can　youse　beat　it！
Accordin'　to　him；　he　had　enough　coin　to　annex　de　whole　of　Noo　Yoik！
De　moll's　his　wife。　　He　went　out　to　hell…an'…gone　somewhere　for　a
few　years　huntin'　gold　while　de　old　girl　starved。　　Den　back　he　comes
an'　blows　in　to…day　wid　his　pockets　full；　an'　de　old　girl　grabs　a
handful；　an'　goes　out　to　buy　up　all　de　grub　in　sight　'cause　she
ain't　had　none　for　so　long。　　An'　w'en　she　comes　back　she　finds　de
old　geezer　gagged　an'　tied　in　a　chair；　an'　some　guy's　hit　him　a
crack　on　de　bean　an'　flown　de　coop　wid　de　mazuma。　　But　youse　had
better　get　out　of　here　before　youse　gets　run　over！　　Dis　ain't　no
place　for　an　old　skirt　like　youse。　　De　bulls'11　be　down　here　on　de
hop　in　a　minute；　an'　w'en　dis　mob　starts　sprinklin'　de　street　wid
deir　fleetin'　footsteps；　youse　are　likely　to　get　hurt。　　See？〃　　The
young　man　started　to　force　his　way　through　the　crowd　again。　　〃Youse
had　better　cut　loose；　mother！〃　he　warned　over　his　shoulder。

It　was　good　advice。　　Rhoda　Gray　took　it。　　She　had　scarcely　reached
the　next　block　when　the　crowd　behind　her　was　being　scattered
pell…mell　and　without　ceremony　in　all　directions　by　the　police；　as
the　young　man　had　predicted。　　She　went　on。　　There　was　nothing　that
she　could　do。　　The　man's　face　and　the　woman's　face　haunted　her。
They　had　seemed　stamped　with　such　abject　misery　and　despair。　　But
there　was　nothing　that　she　could　do。　　It　was　one　of　those　sore　and
grievous　cross…sections　out　of　the　lives　of　the　swarming　thousands
down　here　in　this　quarter　which　she　knew　so　intimately　and　so　well。
And　there　were　so　many；　many　of　those　cross…sections！　　Once；　in　a
small；　pitifully　meager　and　restricted　way；　she　had　been　able　to
help　some　of　these　hurt　lives；　but　now　…　　Her　lips　tightened　a
little。　　She　was　going　to　Shluker's　junk　shop。

Her　forehead　gathered　in　little　furrows　as　she　walked　along。　　Sh