"I've given everything for him! If he only cared for me! If he only did."
All at once, with a rapid movement, she sprang up. The removal of the pressure was altogether unmistakable. I was conscious of her resting her hands upon the coverlet to assist her to her feet. I felt the little jerk; then the withdrawal of the hands. She choked back her sobs when she had gained her feet Her tone was changed.
"What a fool I am to make a fuss. He don't care for me — not that." We heard her snap her fingers in the air. "He never did. Us women are always fools — we're all the same. I'll go to bed."
Violet clutched my arm. She whispered, in that attenuated fashion she seemed to have caught the trick of —
"She's getting into bed. We must get out."
It certainly was a fact, someone was getting into bed. The bed-clothes were moved; not our bed-clothes, but some phantom coverings. We heard them rustle, we were conscious of a current of air across our faces as someone caught them open. And then! — then someone stepped upon the bed,
"Let's get out!" gasped Violet.
