“He is a sad blunderer. 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. He thought her only an orphan in search of her English relatives. She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender. “How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. His sister appeared. You never can go back. By this time, Jack's reputation had risen to such a height with the populace,—his exploits having become the universal theme of discourse, that the streets were almost impassable for the crowds collected to obtain a view of him. "I likes to hear vot you says. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the social ladder. He, for his part, was trying to grasp the series of unexpected reactions that had so wrecked their tete-a-tete. ’ You mean you hope you do, thought Gerald cynically.
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