ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. 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 Widgett method of thought puzzled her weakly rhetorical mind. “Why can’t he reason with me,” she said, again and again, “instead of doing this?” Part 3 There presently came a phase in which she said: “I WON’T stand it even now. Wood, leaping from the bed. “If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. "What weight are these irons?" asked Jonathan, coolly addressing one of the partners.
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