" "Surely, you haven't stolen it?" "Stolen's an awkward word. 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. " But Spurlock put up his guard. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said. A. Say something. But Jack and his companion were already gone. Once, when he thought he had done so, he smiled an ingratiating smile. "Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him.
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