At least she felt glad until, having been directed to a low easy-chair facing them all, she suddenly caught sight of the two jagged ends of braid hanging from the front breadth of her dress--the braid Dan had hacked off with his knife.

Both ends hung down two or three inches, and no eye could avoid seeing them.

From them her glance travelled to her shabby old shoes, the spots on her frock, her hands.
Her face flushed a fiery red and her eyes filled.

Not for any consideration could she at that moment have raised her eyes.

She knew, she felt those gimlet glances, the looks and meaning smiles that were being exchanged, and she writhed under them, while her heart felt very full and sore.