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. Her nurse says she may live some time; but she seems to me to be sinking fast. Standing over the pierced Rhea, Lucy bayed, a long cry that was half-scream and half-howl. "What's become of Ruth?" "Gone to her room.
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