A long chest under one of the windows was open, some of its contents dragged out and spilling onto the floor. Larry fell off the truck the Wednesday night before she planned on leaving. 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. They troubled no one, and as long as they did not noise themselves abroad and make a nuisance of themselves in this Protestant country, no one troubled them. \"Of course not. “No, he wouldn’t come here of all places—just now. ” “And you can’t?” “I don’t think I ought to control myself. Anna, my love, you cannot have forgotten so soon. “I expected you this morning,” he said. She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. Of course, one doesn’t like to talk about things until there are things to talk about.
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