She knew she would do crazy, impulsive things all day.

It was easy to analyze this exuberance.

She had reached out into the dark and touched danger, and found a new thrill in a humdrum world.
The Great Dramatist had produced a tremendous drama and she had watched curtain after curtain fall from the wrong side of the lights.

Now she had been given a speaking part; and she would be down stage for a moment or two--dusting the furniture--while the stars were retouching their make-up.

It was not the thought of Cutty, of Gregor, of Johnny Two-Hawks, of hidden treasure; simply she had arrived somewhere in the great drama.
When she reached the office she had a hard time of it to settle down to the day's work.
"Hustle up that Sunday stuff," said Burlingame.