“I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room. 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. " This expression was old in Ruth's ears. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor.
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