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. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. ’ ‘But you say that I was born here,’ objected Melusine.
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