She hesitated. "Why do you laugh?" he asked. "And now to dispose of our dead. That’s who you ought to go and see, miss. 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. We'll get those books into your room first.
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