Again the chalky pallor spread even to her lips, her eyes became lit with the old terror. 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. Jack's body was caught, and passed from hand to hand over a thousand heads, till it was far from the fatal tree.
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