I am a single man, and——” “Thank you,” she interrupted. Part 8 And as she sat on her bed that night, musing and half-undressed, she began to run one hand down her arm and scrutinize the soft flow of muscle under her skin. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. "Here, take this and get the letter and open and read it. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet.
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