Alas! she thought, how long would she continue to do so?
Yet with her suffering came a wonderful ease, an ability to deal with the details of life.

When at eight o'clock her maid came in and, pulling the curtains, exclaimed with Gallic candor, "Oh, comme madame a mauvaise mine ce matin!" she smiled at her with unusual gentleness.

Later, when Mathilde came down at her accustomed hour, and lying across the foot of her mother's bed, began to read her scraps of the morning paper, Adelaide felt a rush of tenderness for the child, who was so unaware of the hideous bargain life really was.

Surprising as it was, she found she could talk more easily than usual and with a more undivided attention, though everything they said was trivial enough.
Then suddenly her heart stood still, for the door opened, and Vincent, in his dressing-gown, came in.

He had evidently had his bath, for his hair was wet and shiny.