What I need's a gun! Then I'd stand out of the background better, too." Then with one of Katie's queer twists of fancy--Ann! Might not Ann be her gun?
Perhaps she had been wanting a gun for a long time without knowing what it was she was wanting when surely wanting something.

Perhaps every one felt the gun need to make them less the product and more the person.
Then there was another thing.

The thing that had traced those lines about Wayne's mouth, and had whitened, a little, the brown hair of his temples.
Wayne had cared for Clara.

Heaven only knew how he could--Katie's thoughts ran on.

Perhaps heaven did understand those things--certainly it was too much for mere earth.