Then she called a hansom and drove home. 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. ‘Gabbling and muttering in a foreign tongue, that’s what I heard, sir,’ had declared the gap-toothed ancient, when he told them of the initial foray he had made, sneaking around the house in the dark. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove.
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