She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. This was in Texas. Here he found another strong door, making the fifth he had encountered. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. When he returned, it was always the same. This was an imitation of the noises made by the carnivora at the Zoological Gardens at feeding-time; the idea was taken up by prisoner after prisoner until the whole place was alive with barkings, yappings, roarings, pelican chatterings, and feline yowlings, interspersed with shrieks of hysterical laughter. But all normal humans smelled wonderful to her, even dirty ones. She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. When anybody is natural, these days, we dub them queer. ” He extended his hand.
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