But though the breach was large enough to admit him below, he could not squeeze his bulky person through the aperture into the Red Room. The ticket line filtered slowly into the glass doors, growing louder and more boisterous by the minute. Once she stopped in front of a mirror and looked at herself thoughtfully. "Curse me, if I don't think all the world means to cross the Thames this fine night," observed Ben. No doubt— because he did not understand you—he thought you had run away with someone. ’ ‘Very true. She wondered wildly why she had stood up. She turned her head to each side. Capes was irritatingly judicial in the matter, neither absurdly against, in which case one might have smashed him, or hopelessly undecided, but tepidly sceptical. 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. “Odd!” he remarked, rather surprisingly, after a little interval. .
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