Such apartments as she saw were either scandalously dirty or unaccountably dear, or both. “For men have reason, women rhyme A man scores always, all the time. Sebastian grabbed the infant once again by the chest and it wailed into the air, exposing its rows of shark like teeth. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. Relief flooded her.
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