” Michelle sat in a yogi’s posture on the cold plywood, her eyes closed as if meditating. 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. "Can't you take me with you?" urged the voice; "I'll make it well worth your while. He was painfully in earnest, too. "Well, how goes it?" he asked.
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