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Webster, Henry Kitchell, 1875-1932

"The Real Adventure"

"
It wasn't till he tried to speak that her apparent calm was broken.
Then, with a sudden frantic terror in her eyes, she begged him, not
to--begged him to go away, if he had any mercy for her at all, quickly
and without a word. In a sort of daze he obeyed her.
The tardy winter morning, looking through her grimy window, found her
sitting there, huddled in a big bath-robe, just as she'd been when he
closed the door.


CHAPTER XII
"I'M ALL ALONE"

The same grizzly dawn that looked in on Rose through the dim window of
her room on Clark Street, saw Rodney letting himself in his own front
door with a latch-key after hours of aimless tramping through deserted,
unrecognized streets. He was in a welter of emotions he could no more
have given names to than to the streets whose dreary lengths he had
plodded.
The one thing that isolated itself from the rest, climbed up into his
mind and there kept goading him into a weak helpless fury, was a
jingling tune and a set of silly words that Rose and her sisters in the
sextette had sung the night before: "You're all alone, I'm all alone;
come on, let's be lonesome together.


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