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. ‘And she’s—’ She broke off, a sudden light in her eyes. Sepulchre's bell is for ever ringing in my ears—oh!" "If that's the case," observed Wood, "I'm surprised you should like to have such a frightful picture constantly in view as that over the chimney-piece. You called yourself a murderess. He had reacted by laughing at her, informing her coolly that she was naïve in many things. 1.
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