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. This did not tickle his vanity; on the contrary, it enlivened his terror, which is a phase of fascination. Anna took up the pen, and signed, after a moment’s hesitation, A. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. “For great passions, for great accomplishments.
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