She looked and found it there. For some
minutes she could not decide to make use of it; at last she let herself
in and left the door open that anyone who came might see she was there
on business.
This was not the same June who had paid the trembling visit five
months ago; those months of suffering and restraint had made her less
sensitive; she had dwelt on this visit so long, with such minuteness,
that its terrors were discounted beforehand. She was not there to fail
this time, for if she failed no one could help her.
Like some mother beast on the watch over her young, her little quick
figure never stood still in that room, but wandered from wall to wall,
from window to door, fingering now one thing, now another. There was
dust everywhere, the room could not have been cleaned for weeks, and
June, quick to catch at anything that should buoy up her hope, saw in
it a sign that he had been obliged, for economy's sake, to give up his
servant.
She looked into the bedroom; the bed was roughly made, as though by
the hand of man. Listening intently, she darted in, and peered into his
cupboards. A few shirts and collars, a pair of muddy boots--the room was
bare even of garments.
She stole back to the sitting-room, and now she noticed the absence of
all the little things he had set store by.
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