Will you read to me?
I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy." Half an hour later she laid aside the book.

He was asleep.

She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation.

Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers?
Some living thing that depended upon her.

The doll she had never owned, the cat and the dog that had never been hers: here they were, strangely incorporated in this sleeping man.