She cut black court-plaster with her nail-shears and tried different-sized pieces in different places.

Finally, she found one size and one place that suited her.

She turned her head from side to side, looking at the combined effect of her hair, her penciled brows, her dimpled shoulder, and the black beauty-spot.

If some one man could see her as she was now, some time! Which man?
That thought scurried back like a frightened rat into its hole.

She was, for all her strength, afraid of the thought of the one--the very deadly--the man.
And then she came to the matter of a train-gown.