She had to explain about and pay off that forty pounds. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. ‘You imbecile. She was the type that people of every age gravitated to, naturally affable and kind to everyone. But as the students sat about Miss Garvice’s tea-pot and drank tea or smoked cigarettes, the talk got away from Capes. "Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me Tit-Bits. ” One Friday, as she was sitting in the fifth row two seats left of center in Sixth Period Study Hall, a dull hard object thudded against the back of her head. 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. .
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