Sheppard remained dissolved in tears. “Nothing was ever done,” Miss Brett asserted, “without a certain element of Faith. And it’s like the petals falling from a flower. Stir a foot, and I strike. ” She interrupted as Ann Veronica was about to speak again, with a bright contagious hopefulness. “You are a funny, a very funny young lady,” he said, “but we waste time here. 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. ” Anna looked up with a doubtful smile of non-recognition.
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