As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. “It’s—private. Straitened circumstances would not have mattered; a mother would have managed somehow. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. She surveyed accommodation that seemed at first merely austere, and became more and more manifestly inadequate as the moments fled by. It is no good arguing about a thing like that. . The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. Then we can loiter and gossip to our heart’s content.
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