Ennison’s signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone. The effort to maintain her self-control was almost superhuman. Following him, and acting out of instinct rather than intent, Melusine took a firm grasp of the gilt frame with both hands, lifted it high in the air and, with a shrieking curse, brought it down hard. 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. "Thank you," she said, and left the office. Above the housetops it was different. There is Mr. I was reduced to 170 a fool, for there were many pretty women from all walks of life in that teeming city. "Oh!" she gasped.
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