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. “What are we going to do?” said Capes, with his eyes on the broad distances beyond the ribbon of the river. When he returned, a moment or so afterwards, he found Sir Rowland standing by the lifeless body of his sister.
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