I suppose it depends on her own state of mind. “Read this, John. Come up stairs, and take a glass of brandy. And look, again, at the women one finds letting lodgings. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. Perhaps he truly meant it – perhaps there was a force within him that could withstand the hardships of existing past a mortal lifetime. She says that everyone in the house makes too much noise, my Dad snores, and that when the house is empty, the traffic noise is nearly deafening.
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