Thus if the corner she sighted showed indecorous propensities--as,
swelling and receding, fluttering in some ghostly breeze, or
altogether disappearing from view,--she would drop her lid and wait
till she might catch it more seemly. This effected, she would work
from that fixed point, inch by inch, until the whole bureau was
revealed--swaying a little, perhaps, but presently quiescent.
When, and not until, it was firmly anchored she would slowly start her
eye in review around the other objects of her apartment. If the wash-
stand had tendency to polka with the bed, or the wardrobe unnaturally
to stretch up its head through the ceiling, Mrs. Major would march her
gaze steadily back to the bureau, there to take fresh strength and
start again. When all was orderly--then Old Tom.
Masterly in all things, this woman was most masterly in her cups.
VII.
Into Mr. Marrapit's dreams there came a whistle.
He pushed at Sleep; she crooned to him and he snuggled against her.
Upon his brain there rapped a harsh _Wow_!
He wriggled from his bedfellow; she put an arm about him, drew him to
her.
Now there succeeded a steady wash of sound--rising, falling, murmuring
persistent against his senses.
He turned his back upon Sleep. She crooned; he wriggled from her.
Seductively she followed; he kicked a leg and jarred her, threw an arm
and hurt her.
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