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. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow. Ruth loved him. Glancing at each other, they rose from their seats and ventured to address the captain. There was a strained, eager expression on his face. Later, she would sew it on. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word.
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