“Aren’t we all just odds and ends of humanity —the left-overs, you know. The bridge was protected on either side by a railing with bannisters placed at wide intervals. This done, he let himself carefully down by it, and having only a few feet to drop, alighted in safety. At any rate she must see me. The biological laboratory, perpetually viewing life as pairing and breeding and selection, and again pairing and breeding, seemed only a translated generalization of that assertion. 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.
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