F. 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. Then enter Mr. ’ ‘I didn’t say I did not enjoy it,’ Gerald protested. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood. Laying these carefully aside, he restored the drawer to its place. ” “A—what?” Anna asked. She can't last long. 54 \"Yes?\" \"No one says 'Oh my word' anymore. Gerald raised a questioning eyebrow.
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