‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. God had never answered any of her prayers. Latterly I’ve been doing things. like, well, um, you’re kind of looking just a little bit homely lately. Nice position. 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. ‘To begin with,’ he said, ‘allow me a very tiny intimacy. The key's in the lock, on the inner side. No; she'd never go back.
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