[Alice Adams by Booth Tarkington]@TWC D-Link book
Alice Adams

CHAPTER I
7/11

She exhibited to him a face mismodelled by sleep, and set like a clay face left on its cheek in a hot and dry studio.

She was still only in part awake, however, and by the time she had extinguished the night-light and given her patient his tonic, she had recovered enough plasticity.

"Well, isn't that grand! We've had another good night," she said as she departed to dress in the bathroom.
"Yes, you had another!" he retorted, though not until after she had closed the door.
Presently he heard his daughter moving about in her room across the narrow hall, and so knew that she had risen.

He hoped she would come in to see him soon, for she was the one thing that didn't press on his nerves, he felt; though the thought of her hurt him, as, indeed, every thought hurt him.

But it was his wife who came first.
She wore a lank cotton wrapper, and a crescent of gray hair escaped to one temple from beneath the handkerchief she had worn upon her head for the night and still retained; but she did everything possible to make her expression cheering.
"Oh, you're better again! I can see that, as soon as I look at you," she said.


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