Wood. 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. My, um, my curfew. And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. “If you think it worth while,” she answered doubtfully. Yes; she had heard the music the night before. “I came to London unexpectedly, and my friends could not take me in.
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