“Very well,” she would say, “then I must go. Blueskin fought his way towards it, and exerting all his strength, cutting right and left as he proceeded, reached it at the same time. 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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