"You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming with delight. "I don't know what his idea was. She offers me no explanation, permits me absolutely no hope. But Jonathan was not to be deterred. They’ve just got to keep white. Would you like to borrow some of my clothes? I think we're about the same size. It is difficult to express these things. 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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