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. “I regret that you should ever have proposed it,” he went on. ” “It was Cheveney!” he said slowly. For nothing will ever convince me that it is not the man’s share in life to shield, to protect, to lead and toil and watch and battle with the world at large. Do you have family that I should ask?” “Oh, Julian! No, my family is dead, lost.
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