’ He gestured towards the fulminating general. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. "Then it is not too late to save him. "Hush!—come hither, and I'll tell you. “He wants me to have dinner at his parent’s house tonight,” still looking at a series of spots on the carpeting.
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