I declare I'm almost afraid to go to the door. “Lighten up. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. 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. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned.
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