I made a wrong choice, it seems—but my voice remains. 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 seriously ——” “Well seriously?” “Isn’t it your own fault a little? Why do you not tell me your address, and allow me to call upon you. ’ ‘That,’ said Gosse, ‘is a matter of opinion. "But you are tired!" "I want to go over the story again. It was not for a week or a month. ’ ‘Pah! Your major will say something to this.
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