The blood raced back from
her cheeks, leaving her shivering and cold. Oh, how he must have
loathed her! Why had she done it? Why was there not some illuminating
power to point out the intricacy of the ways when people came to such
a maze in life as this?
In a torture of shame that blent with all her misery, she flung
herself, dressed as she was, on to the bed. Let him find her
there--what did it matter! She realized that she had lost everything.
And there she lay, eyes burning and dry, heart just beating faintly
in her breast. But when she heard his footsteps mounting the stairs,
she suddenly got up. If he knew that she had followed them, he would
never forgive her. So, in the midst of her misery, she still found
the strength to hope. Jumping up from the bed she stood before her
mirror and began to take off her hat as though she had that moment
returned.
When his knock fell on the door, she forced fear from her voice, drove
eagerness into the place of it, and called him to enter.
The door opened. In the mirror's reflection, she could see him stop
abruptly as he came into the room. With hands still lifted,
extricating the pins from her hat, she turned.
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