“Well?” she said. “What were you doing outside Miss Pellissier’s flat to-night? You were looking at her windows. 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. “Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. Remember! not a word!" So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. I am really in earnest.
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