It would give her something to do, keep her mind off herself.

Nothing but excitement would pull her out of this semi-hysterical doldrum.
She hid the wallet in the pocket of her underskirt.

Already her blood was beginning to dance.

She ran into her bedroom for two veils, a gray automobile puggree and one of those heavy black affairs with butterflies scattered over it, quite as effectual as a mask.

She wound the puggree about her hat.