In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. Over here men drink because they are lonely; and when they drink too hard and too long, they wind up on the beach. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. "I don't quite understand the application. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. He would be so disappointed.
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