Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. "But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. But she could tell by the dullness of his eyes that he saw only some inner vision. The aunt laughed. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. “If I do,” he said.
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