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. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. "I shall state my suspicions to the governor. Her nerves were shattered, her senses dazed by this unexpected shock. . "More slang," he said. ” “Well?” Anna remarked calmly. Nevertheless, she was still fighting. \"Want your pencil back?\" She asked him warily, squinting.
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