She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor. The future was not so black. ” “You may be sure of the one,” she murmured.
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