” He leaned towards her. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. ” She propped herself up on the massive oaken post of the bed, feeling the paralysis tingle her legs as it left them ever so slowly. She closed her eyes as if asleep, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. Then it came to her with a shock, as an extraordinary oversight, that she could never tell Manning about Ramage—never. He went on. “It is just a look. “What are you doing?” “Nothing. I am five-and-thirty, and I have knocked about in the world and tasted the quality of life. “I find the two inseparable. From one window the beach was always visible; from another, the stores. 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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