But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this. 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. I am sure that he can be got rid of. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. Even you have not been able to hold her back. ‘You had better kill me, mademoiselle, because otherwise I shall end by strangling you. You lie about your past all the time and you know it.
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