He held the door open for her mutely, with the keenest pang his pleasant life had ever brought him, and she passed out and down the dingy stairs.
On the first landing she paused and turned.

"I will never be different," she said aloud, as if he were still beside her, "I will never be different!" She unbuttoned one of her gloves and fingered the curious silver ring that gleamed uncertainly on her hand in the shabby light of the staircase.

The alternative within it, the alternative like a bit of brown sugar, offered itself very suggestively at the moment.

She looked around her at the dingy place she stood in, and in imagination threw herself across the lowest step.

Even at that miserable moment she was aware of the strong, the artistic, the effective thing to do.