The cry was echoed by twenty different voices. ’ ‘From you,’ the lady threw at him furiously. But she was relentless. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. He accepted the glass of wine, and bowed. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room. The room behind was another small antechamber, presumably linking the back rooms. Borne along by the current, Darrell was instantly at the boat's side.
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