Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/137

Rh Slouching round the grim square, shuffling up the street, Slinking down the by-way, all my graces hawking, Offering my body to each man I meet. Peering in the gin-shop where the lads are drinking, Trying to look gay-like, crazy with the blues; Halting in a doorway, shuddering and shrinking (Oh, my draggled feather and my thin, wet shoes). Here’s a drunken drover: “Hullo, there, old dearie!” No, he only curses, can’t be got to talk.… On and on till daylight, famished, wet and weary, God in Heaven help me as I walk, walk, walk!

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Late in July 1914.