“Oh, God!” she said at last, “how I wish I had been taught to pray!” Part 3 She had some idea of putting these subtle and difficult issues to the chaplain when she was warned of his advent. “Um, he took me to the Big Apple. Ye gods! what a wilderness it is! Every one trying to get the better of every one, every one regardless of every one—it’s one of those days when every one bumps against you—every one pouring coal smoke into the air and making confusion worse confounded, motor omnibuses clattering and smelling, a horse down in the Tottenham Court Road, an old woman at the corner coughing dreadfully—all the painful sights of a great city, and here you come into it to take your chances. Sheppard, pressing her hand to her temples. Tell me how you are earning your living here, Anna—typewriting, or painting, or lady’s companion?” “I think,” Anna said, “that the less you know about me the better. The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. She were that miserable. One wants helpers and protectors—and clean water. He was not there.
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