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. Those are all nice things, but it’s not what I want. It was. ’ Pottiswick sucked at his teeth through the gaps. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. “You underestimate your own sickness, and the ill humors that struck you may strike again. They seldom arrive on the beach.
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