. 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. They were so good to me. Lucy stared at the girl for a long ten seconds, and then looked away. “You know of no one likely to have had a grudge against this man?” he asked. The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. There was no mistaking his intentions this time. She was conscious the whole conversation of Michelle, trying to divine what the girl was planning to do. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him. Lucy replied, \"My hair has a mind of its own.
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