’ His eyes found the girl again, and he added rancorously, ‘Giving birth to you. . It seemed at first the most beautiful afternoon of all time to her, and perhaps the thrill of her excitement did add a distinctive and culminating keenness to the day. ‘Very. ‘But I was not there. My father's chief fear, I must tell you, is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild. Lucy’s cool. 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.
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