He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. 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. ‘Let’s check the rest of it and then I suppose we will have to break in. A disagreeable young man, with red hair and a loose mouth, seated at the reporter’s table, was only too manifestly sketching her. ” She stared hard at her finger-nails. His conscience never told him to go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to the deed itself. As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare blank walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the musty, close atmosphere, exclaimed, "I'll let a little fresh air into this dungeon. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. From first to last, on this occasion, her aunt expostulated for about two hours.
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