Mrs.
Phillips had a feeling against being "shut off," as she called it. She
meant to tap lightly and walk straight in, as usual. But what she saw
through the opening caused her to pause. Mrs. Phillips was sitting up in
bed with her box of cosmetics in front of her. She was sensitive of
anyone seeing her make-up; and Joan, knowing this, drew back a step. But
for some reason, she couldn't help watching. Mrs. Phillips dipped a
brush into one of the compartments and then remained with it in her hand,
as if hesitating. Suddenly she stuck out her tongue and passed the brush
over it. At least, so it seemed to Joan. It was only a side view of
Mrs. Phillips's face that she was obtaining, and she may have been
mistaken. It might have been the lips. The woman gave a little gasp and
sat still for a moment. Then, putting away the brush, she closed the box
and slipped it under the pillow.
Joan felt her knees trembling. A cold, creeping fear was taking
possession of her. Why, she could not understand. She must have been
mistaken. People don't make-up their tongues.
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