She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. Wood brought up. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. Beneath the shelf, containing these books, hung the fine old ballad of 'St. Marry, come up! I'll see who's to be obeyed.
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