Seeing that his mood had changed, Bess quietly put down the book, took up the paper, and glanced along the columns for something to suit him.
'You don't care for the money market, I know, nor musical news.

Here's a murder; you used to like those; shall I read it?
One man kills another--,' 'No!' Only a word, but it gave Mrs Jo a thrill, and for a moment she dared not glance at the tell-tale mirror.

When she did Dan lay motionless with one hand over his eyes, and Bess was happily reading the art news to ears that never heard a word.

Feeling like a thief who has stolen something very precious, Mrs Jo slipped away to her study, and before long Bess followed to report that Dan was fast asleep.
Sending her home, with the firm resolve to keep her there as much as possible, Mother Bhaer had an hour of serious thought all alone in the red sunset; and when a sound in the next room led her there, she found that the feigned sleep had become real repose; for Dan lay breathing heavily, with a scarlet spot on either cheek, and one hand clinched on his broad breast.

Yearning over him with a deeper pity than ever before, she sat in the little chair beside him, trying to see her way out of this tangle, till his hand slipped down, and in doing so snapped a cord he wore about his neck and let a small case drop to the floor.
Mrs Jo picked it up, and as he did not wake, sat looking at it, idly wondering what charm it held; for the case was of Indian workmanship and the broken cord, of closely woven grass, sweet scented and pale yellow.
'I won't pry into any more of the poor fellow's secrets.