She came away suffering as though she had lost something.

She was more inexpressibly sad than she had ever been in life.
It was this way through many shifts of the tired brain, those curious phantoms of the spirit slipping in, blurring strange scenes, one with the other.

The last one made her cry out, for Carrie was slipping away somewhere over a rock, and her fingers had let loose and she had seen her falling.
"Minnie! What's the matter?
Here, wake up," said Hanson, disturbed, and shaking her by the shoulder.
"Wha--what's the matter ?" said Minnie, drowsily.
"Wake up," he said, "and turn over.

You're talking in your sleep." A week or so later Drouet strolled into Fitzgerald and Moy's, spruce in dress and manner.
"Hello, Charley," said Hurstwood, looking out from his office door.
Drouet strolled over and looked in upon the manager at his desk.

"When do you go out on the road again ?" he inquired.
"Pretty soon," said Drouet.
"Haven't seen much of you this trip," said Hurstwood.
"Well, I've been busy," said Drouet.
They talked some few minutes on general topics.
"Say," said Drouet, as if struck by a sudden idea, "I want you to come out some evening." "Out where ?" inquired Hurstwood.
"Out to my house, of course," said Drouet, smiling.
Hurstwood looked up quizzically, the least suggestion of a smile hovering about his lips.