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. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. Foolish compliments were tossed about like confetti. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. No man knew whence she had come nor why.
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