All that was needed to complete the simile was that the girl should burst into song. Her relationship with John had made her the object of desire for scores of teenage boys who had dared not previously think of her in such a way. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. 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. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. "Ay. I’m like a creature just wakened up. He seemed to be thinking hard. " "But, man, this chap hasn't fallen soft. ’ ‘Why not?’ Gerald asked straightly. He gurgled as if trying to communicate. I said, ‘It is no use your telling me about this walk and pretend I’ve been told about the ball, because you haven’t. “It is in your hands from now on, Shar. If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify.
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