"You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. Of this I'm certain, however, she was much too good for him, and was never meant to be a journeyman carpenter's wife, still less what is she now. And so she came upon the word Love. The stranger turned his head at the sound. We felt like thieves. ’ ‘Indeed? Interesting. Suddenly she had become afraid. He had not taken many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. 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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