“Lucy! You found me! I was just about to sleep some of those rum and Cokes off like the pig I am. 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. “No!” she exclaimed. He looked at her in some embarrassment. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket.
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