He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. Ann Veronica wiped a scalpel, put a card over a watch-glass containing thin shreds of embryonic guinea-pig swimming in mauve stain, and dismantled her microscope. “Ruin me? For what? Posterity? How could you ruin me, Lucy? What on earth are you talking about?” He got up and began to pace the room. “I suppose I should let go if I had. She seemed to have no idea whatever of the emotional states that were becoming to her age and position.
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