Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. gutenberg. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. “Sure, but it’s not like you’re married, you know. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. God help me. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. You are wedged in amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you are almost out of sight.
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