To compare me to a starving pig. 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. “I am sure of it. The devil is on top, not below. He could only wonder that this amazing thing had remained so long a secret to him.
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