Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor. Wood, in a taunting tone. “I knew,” she said, in a low despairing tone, “that people would talk. All of which proves that the doctor also had his moments of distraction, with this difference: he was not distracted from his subject matter. Sheppard. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible.
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