What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel. ‘Housebreaking, Hilary? I take the matter of housebreaking very seriously, I’ll have you know. ” She smiled grimly at the recollection of that lunch—tea and roll at a cheap café. 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. It fits your style. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. He has no imagination, no real generosity. It was no wonder, there was no money to buy food for the house.
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