“Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. Mind, I am anticipating events. Consequences of the Theft. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. “I have been amusing myself up to now by trying to earn my living,” she replied. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. 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.
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