She felt her heartbeat accelerate until it was pounding her chest. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. She herself, and one other there, recognized the interposition of something akin to tragedy.
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