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CHAPTER XX. ” “A man does,” said Manning—“a true man, anyhow. And then the students went into the long laboratory and followed out these facts in almost living tissue with microscope and scalpel, probe and microtome, and the utmost of their skill and care, making now and then a raid into the compact museum of illustration next door, in which specimens and models and directions stood in disciplined ranks, under the direction of the demonstrator Capes. Some shadow of reserve seemed to have crept up between them. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me. ‘What do you say of these troops?’ ‘You see, we’re militia. ” His voice rose and fell amidst the music and the singing of Tristan and King Mark, like a voice heard in a badly connected telephone. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow.
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