What was her name? That was what the policeman wanted to know.
He had found her wandering through the streets of Weehawken, N. J., weeping with the fierce, cloudly bitterness of one deranged by shock. He spoke gently to her. She did not know where she was going. She did not know where she had come from. That was why she was crying. Ho, but the officer knew what this meant! It was some disease they had when they talked like that; he had read about it in the...
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