In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. She took some shirts, underwear, shoes, a duffel bag, and his wallet to make it look like he had gone a-traveling. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. Too late. "It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. My friend the doctor suspected it, and so do I. You have set out to do something which is neither God's way nor man's. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories.
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