She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. He seemed to have expected them. ” She said, ignoring the absurdity of her own statement. Have you not tired of sadness and pain?” 81 She thought she could hear tears in his voice but would not look at him. She was perplexed by this, and stood for some seconds in the empty street hesitating, until the appearance of another circumspect woman under the street lamp at the corner reassured her. To think of him as loving her would make all that different.
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