The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. So, after the dinner was over, Spurlock took her home; and worked far into the night. He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. '—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it. Then Capes shifted his eyes to her microscope and the little trays of unmounted sections beside it. “You ass and imbecile, Ann Veronica! You female cad! Cad! Cad!. “You were talking to that fellow Ramage to-day—in the Avenue. Rummage, my boy, do.
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