There was no reason why she shouldn’t be his restrained and dignified friend. 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. ’ Fire enveloped Charvill’s mind and he brought up his cane, pointed like a musket. Wood. Even to my own brother—if I had one—I could not tell everything, and you, although you are so kind, you are almost a stranger, aren’t you?” “No, no!” he protested. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed.
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