‘Dieu du ciel, for what do you take me?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he threw at her. 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. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. But, Gerald, do you believe there is a secret passage indeed?’ ‘Well, we covered every inch of the house and grounds, and I swear she never left that room by way of the door. Still, one never could tell. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. " To-morrow! She never beheld it.
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