She reached for the door handle. ’ Roding blinked. Maggot, laughing. 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. If you will have your peg, take it with plain water. She danced with two others.
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