A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. ’ ‘I know,’ he said, smiling. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. Even Lucy’s bra and panties, the ubiquitous polyester underwire and matching cotton bikini briefs from Kmart, were gone. ‘No, for you had your own selfish plans already made, that is now seen. “You cannot! Oh, you cannot. Look! Is that some one coming out?” The front door of the flats stood open, and through it a woman, slim and veiled, passed on to the pavement and turned with swift footsteps in the opposite direction.
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