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. ” “Won’t you postpone the attempt, then?” he said gallantly, “until I have done something to deserve your gratitude? You will not forget—seven-thirty, Café Maston, Boulevard des Italiennes. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. The kindly American consul-general had himself taken her to the bank, where her banknotes had been exchanged for a letter of credit, and had thoroughly advised her. Want to walk home today? Lucy slipped the paper into her English textbook. Stanley, in his effort to seem at ease, took entire possession of the hearthrug. Hugging them, they crept stealthily around the house, Major Alderley leading, and wasting—so his captain acidly commented—a deal of time checking the windows and doors.
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