"Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried Winifred, brightening up. An ugly flush stained his cheeks. 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 gave her silence in return. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually her mind stopped its chattering and she fell into a deep slumber. And Mrs. " "Don't scold him, father," interposed Thames; "he's been frightened enough already.
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