Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. 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. “I shall send for a policeman,” Anna said, “directly my maid answers the bell— unless you choose to go before. “We do not want the men,” said Miss Miniver; “we do not want them, with their sneers and loud laughter. Here, put it on your finger. Always. Ten thousand islands, and each one good for a night's rest.
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