She slipped into bed and struggled to stay awake until she heard Cathy and Larry 14 stirring. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners. She felt that perhaps, in her desire to play an adequate part in the conversation, she had talked rather more freely than she ought to have done, and given him a wrong impression of herself. Even if you didn’t know it. Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. There were so many things about her which he could not understand. He looked at her reproachfully. You are all that I am or hope to be—the celestial atom God put into me at the beginning. This is your moment.
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