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. White. There was another phrase which sounded something like 'Gin in a blue-serge coat'. A good deal of the food will be in tins.
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