The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. She recalled that she had heard nothing that first time when Gerald and the captain had burst in upon her. " "It is life. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. I feel like a fraudulent trustee. 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. ” “Are you a detective or a doctor?” she asked calmly.
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