I left her at the corner, resolved to see no more of her. But that wasn’t to be, for there came a day, years after, when she held up her hand in a court and perjured me into prison. The next day I moved to another part of the city and kept away from the blocks she walked at night. I met her no more, and she soon fell into the background of my memory. I watched the papers, but saw nothing except a few lines reporting the finding of the body of an unidentified man in an alley. A dead man in an alley didn’t mean much in Chicago then and his body probably went to the potter’s field or a medical college.