At least that, I think, is what makes a clever woman’s independent career so much more difficult than a clever man’s. When they reached her rooms she stepped lightly out upon the pavement. 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. “Yes,” she said, “that is what we ought to do. " "I'm a queer girl," she replied with a smile. Ann Veronica was overcome by this amount of emotion. Acne sprayed her cheeks in a fine red spatter where it intermingled with brown freckles.
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