The few whites he had ever known generally offered to pet him when they really wanted to kick him. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. Then it dawned. She remembered abruptly that she was really living upon his money. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. Mr. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman.
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