If they hadn't sent for me, you'd have pegged out before morning. 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. Sheila’s boys hadn’t been much help when they were around the house, anyway, they were more partial to lolling around on couches and running around with their girls. There was Major Price—you must recollect him, Sir Rowland,—he stumbled as he was getting out of his chair at that very gate.
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