The widow had a small table at her elbow, on which
stood a cup of coffee and a glass of liquor. The rose-colored
curtains were drawn, the rose-shaded lamps were lighted, and the
whole interior of the cottage looked very comfortable indeed.
Mrs. Jasher, in a crocus-yellow tea-gown trimmed with rich black
lace, reclined on her couch like Cleopatra in her barge. In the
pink light she looked very well preserved, although her face wore
an anxious expression. This was due to the fact that the mail
had come in and the three letters brought by the postman had to
do with creditors. Mrs. Jasher was always trying to make both
ends meet, and had a hard struggle to keep her head above water.
Certainly, since she had inherited the money of her brother, the
Pekin merchant, she need not have looked so worried. But she
did, and made no disguise of it, seeing that she was quite alone.
After a time she went to her desk and took out a bundle of bills
and some other letters, also an account book and a bank book.
Over these she pored for quite an hour. The clock struck nine
before she looked up from this unpleasant task, and she found her
financial position anything but satisfactory. With a weary sigh
she rose and stared at herself in the mirror over the fireplace,
frowning as she did so.
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