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She walked for a mile or more recklessly, close veiled, with swift level footsteps, though her brain was in a whirl and a horrible faintness all the time hovered about her. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears. He had only to recall this fact (which he did in each crisis) to erect a barrier she could not go around or over. Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil. “You know nothing about the stage. He thought, too, of the fretful invalid who lay in the next room to his, whose money had created his business and made his position in the world. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. “Agreed,” he said, “certainly,” and drew a checkbook toward him.

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