" "With all his cunning, he may meet with his match," continued Kneebone, laughing. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the door pulled back. The contest was now carried on between Rowland and Darrell. 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.
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