Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. ” “Shirts?” “Shirts at one—and—something a dozen. When she spoke, her lips twitched. ” Her mind went back to that treaty. 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. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands.
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