He seemed to avoid meeting Anna’s eyes as much as possible. An enormous poster almost covered one side of the wall—the poster. “But it is so difficult——” “Not at all,” he answered eagerly. 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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