Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe. “Stop! Don’t put your face there. 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. But the great point was still unaccomplished. The Mohocks XII. “I’m rather a persistent person.
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