Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. “Well, my girl, I wish you had thought about all these things before these bothers began. And the Duke, too—I heard him say that a married secretary would be worse than useless to him. 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. It was dry, as if she had powdered it. Wood, and you'll find that I've spoken the truth.
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