. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. The contest was now carried on between Rowland and Darrell. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write. “Has he accused any one yet?” “Not yet,” he answered. I won't keep you long. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. “No, I am alone,” she answered. He was as hard as a rock. 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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