She felt sleepy and unusually irritable. "I am. Bought the freedom of a sing-song girl; and all the while you knew you'd have to tote the girl back. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. It was just such a bedroom as she would have chosen for herself. “I don’t mean simply intensity of sensation. " "True," replied the widow, upon whom all the terrible recollections of the day before crowded, "I know it isn't.
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