“And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. " And, as if to make the moral more obvious, a dirty pack of cards was scattered, underneath, upon the sawdust. “Hill gradually recovering consciousness. A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. A little darling? Lord in heaven, he had taken leave of his senses. She opened it and imbibed. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky.
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