to-night! Many more breaths of this unfriendly atmosphere, and she would choke. There was a painful pressure in her throat, too, that warned her. Sensational as a sudden exit would be, it was preferable to losing control, here. She crossed the room rapidly, with a heaving chest.
Her rush upstairs was a race between flying feet and sobs that pulled and strained—a tie race, for when at last she reached her bed, and threw herself forward headlong upon it, the violent sobs at the same instant burst forth, one after another—pell-mell—racking, rending, tearing their way through the cultivated, trimmed little paths of the girl's soul—paths which she had taken such pains to lay out and tend—all her pretty self-control trampled and crushed by this sudden fury that shook her from head to foot, possessed her body and soul, made of her just a mindless, will-less thing, crumpled up upon the bed—a thing that, after the first passion had passed, jerked spasmodically at measured intervals and moaned, "Oh, oh, oh!"
For a long time Reba lay there, utterly abandoned, face buried in the pillow, making no attempt whatsoever to recover her composure. The elements had their way for once with her. The storm died down only when it had spent itself. It must have been an hour, at least, before Reba was calm again.
When finally she got up, she groped her way across the room to her bureau, lit the light, and stood staring at her red eyes and disheveled appearance, wonderingly, in the mirror. She had never been gripped and shaken by her feelings before. She was awed and impressed by the experience. She didn't know
