Somehow, after Duane had gone, she must have waked and gone to her own room.

But she could not recollect doing it.
Now she realised that she was tired, wretched, feverish.

She suffered Kathleen to undress her, comb her hair, bathe her, and dry the white, slender body and limbs in which the veins still burned and throbbed.
When at length she lay between the cool sheets, silent, limp, heavy-lidded, Kathleen turned out the electric brackets and lighted the candle.
"Dear," she said, trying to speak cheerfully, "do you know what your brother has done ?" "What ?" asked Geraldine drowsily.
"He has bought Roya-Neh, if you please, and he invites you to draw a check for half of it and to move there next week.

As for me, I was furious with him.

What do you think ?" Her voice softened to a whisper; she bent over the girl, looking closely at the closed lids.