‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. "I shan't sleep a wink while Jack Sheppard's in the house. So she approached him with sandwiches. You are restless, aggressive, critical with all the crude unthinking criticism of youth. I am bound to admit that I greatly enjoy my altered life. 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. It never is. ’ His face changed, all the humour and tenderness leaving it in an instant.
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