The next day she dipped the spring almost dry, and used up all the soap in the house; and for three days went around with her skirts tucked up and her arms bare and the soles of her shoes soggy from wet floors.

Jean kept out of her way, but she owned to herself that, after all, it was not unpleasant to come home tired and not have to cook a solitary supper and eat it in silent meditation.
The third night after Hepsy's arrival, Jean awoke to hear a man's furtive footsteps in her father's room.

This was the fifth time that the prowler had come in the night, and custom had dulled her fear a little.

She had not reached the point yet of getting up to see who it was and what he wanted.

It was much easier to lie perfectly still with her six-shooter gripped in her hand and wait for him to go.