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. “How will you live?” she appealed. "These people are all in league with him," cried the latter. ’ Shock ripped through Charvill’s chest. Ennison’s signet-ring had cut nearly to the bone. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here.
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