She heard the shower running and looked at his floor. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. “You won’t give me away, Anna. . 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. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further. ‘Yes, like you,’ she snapped, with a venomous glance, her role evidently forgotten for the moment.
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