She drew a hand across her eyes.

As if that gesture could rub out an evil thought! It is all very well to say "Avaunt!" But if the idea will not?
"I couldn't, I couldn't! I'd be a liar and a cheat.

But he is so nice! If he did want me!...

No, no! Just for comforts! I couldn't! What a miserable wretch I am!" She caught up the copper jug and still holding the roses to her heart, the tears streaming down her cheeks, rushed out to the kitchen for water.

She dropped the green stems into the jug, buried her face in the buds to cool the hot shame on her cheeks, and remembered--what a ridiculous thing the mind was!--that she had three shirt waists to iron.
She set the jug on the kitchen table, where it remained for many hours, and walked over to the range, to the flatiron shelf.