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. Most of my successes in life have been made with a sort of reckless vigor. “Forty guineas a week. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. ” Sir John breathed a long deep sigh.
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