Some one called noisily for her to wait and have a drink, but she never glanced about, or gave slightest heed.

At the curb a drunken woman reeled against her, peering sneeringly into her face with ribald laugh, but Beth Norvell pushed silently past, and vanished into the protecting shadows beyond.
The wide doors of the brilliantly illuminated Gayety were flung open, the bright light from within streaming far across the road.

Many of its patrons, heated with liquor and the dance, had swarmed forth upon the broad platform outside in search of fresher air.

To avoid pushing her way through this noisy crowd the girl swiftly crossed the street into the darkness opposite.

As she paused there for an instant, scarcely conscious that the glow of the lamps reflected full upon her face, there sounded a sudden clatter of horses' hoofs to her right, and a half-dozen riders swept around the sharp corner, dashing forward into the glare.