" "What?" "We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of them to him. How fortunate that she recognises the resemblance. " "At any rate, I won, for he went away. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. Mike answered the door while still toweling his hands dry. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often.
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