"No, I'm not.

Not about some things, at any rate.

It doesn't take pluck to fight for one's moment, but it takes pluck to go without--a lot.

More than I have.

I can't help it," she added fiercely.
After miles of outlying streets and little gloomy houses, they reached London itself, red and roaring and murky, with a thick dampness coming up from the river, that betokened fog again to-morrow.