There were so many things that finally she made a memorandum of them, dully wondering as she did so how she could think of them at all.

One would have supposed that the awful disaster that was continually in her thoughts would have blotted out these little commonplace trivial concerns.

But they didn't.

She couldn't understand it.
Presently the sound of a low crooning in the seat behind her made her glance over her shoulder.

An old coloured mammy, in the whitest of freshly starched aprons and turbans, was rocking a child to sleep in her arms.