dBooks desire

A
fit of trembling seized her; she leaned forward and
rested her arms upon the dressing-table or she would
have fallen from the chair to the floor. Yet, even as
her fear made her sick and weak, she knew that she
would not yield.
The cold drove her to the couch, to lie under half a
dozen of the dressing-gowns and presently to fall into
a sleep of exhaustion. When she awoke after what she
thought was a few minutes of unconsciousness, the
clamor of traffic in the Rue de Rivoli startled her. She
started up, glanced at the clock on the chimneypiece.
It was ten minutes past nine! When, by all the rules
governing the action of the nerves, she ought to have
passed a wakeful night she had overslept more than an
hour. Indeed, she had had the first sound and prolonged
sleep that had come to her since the honeymoon
began; for until then she had slept alone all her life
and the new order had almost given her chronic insomnia.
She rang for her maid and began to dress. The
maid did not come. She rang again and again;
apparently the bell was broken.


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