The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. “It couldn’t be. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. “I mean to go to that dance!” she blubbered. He regretted now that in his idle hours he hadn't hunted up one against the rainy day. 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. "Yale? Why, so am I. It stunned her.
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