There indeed you see Monte Rosa. ‘That is what she wants, is it?’ ‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. “Let us escape,” she said. . 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. She loved him. “My dear Miss Stanley, when I talked to you the other afternoon of work and politics and such-like things, my mind was all the time resenting it beyond measure.
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