Mr. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1. “But—” The long inconsecutive conversation by that time was getting on her nerves. He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair.
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