Who was knocking at my door at one o'clock in the morning?
It was wet and cold, wet from the heavy rain, probably crying, wet clothes, wet shapeless skirt, no shape at all. Who was it?
Oh, you poor thing! Do come inside!
I dried its hair with a towel.
It was your last chance. You took it. You came here. You are brave.
I wrapped a blanket around it.
Your name is Josephine.