And I don't want anything of yours destroyed, Hoddy. We're two good-looking fellows, ain't we?" "Very good-looking," replied Rachel. 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. That dress is thirty years old, if a day. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. What brings you here?” “I’m here to see my uncle.
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