I'll be wanting my sixteen thousand. Every rule is against me—Why did I let you begin this? I might have told—” “I don’t see that you could help—” “I might have helped—” “You couldn’t. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. Nor is Theresa, or even Thérèse. 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. But it was clear she was in no mood for Teddys.
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