’ Martha got up with a swish of her black habit. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. The day had become suddenly overcast. "Who are the others?" "Let me see. 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. He drew a little breath of relief.
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