She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. ‘I do not mind to pray, no. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. For the most part these were detached people: men practising the plastic arts, young writers, young men in employment, a very large proportion of girls and women—self-supporting women or girls of the student class. I know now that I was mistaken. The Night-Cellar XVIII.
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