“There is this absurd craving for Mr. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. Sheila wouldn’t allow me to date a boy even if he was only fifteen—I mean sixteen, like I am, you see. Though he never seen so much of Miss Mary as I did. 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've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. After all, it was really rather funny.
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