She slept that night exhausted, woke up early the next morning and lay motionless on her bed: at first staring bewildered about the room, and then, with a sharp contraction of her brows and a quick breath, looking intently up at the ceiling.

A vigilant look crept into her eyes, for at once instinctively she was on guard against letting the feelings of yesterday rise.
"What a selfish little beast I've been.

Did I help in the funeral?
Not a bit.

Did I comfort poor Joe?
Not at all.

I was occupied wholly with my own morbid little soul.