" Darrell returned no answer. For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. ’ The smile vanished. " "Perhaps, I wasn't," returned Thames, gloomily, as the remembrance of Jonathan Wild's foul insinuation crossed him. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. She placed the freezer back on top of Ray Plote's old hiding place, now his permanent resting place.
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