"I won't!" He was noticing other things about her.

Her moccasins were in tatters.
Her short skirt was torn.

Her shining hair was in tangles.

As she swept it back from her face he saw under her eyes the darkness of exhaustion; in her cheeks a wanness, which he did not know just then was caused by hunger, and by her struggle to get away from something.

On the back of one of her clenched hands was a deep, red scratch.