" CHAPTER XIII. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. " "I am calm—quite calm, Rowland," she answered, with lips whose agitation belied her words. They moved fast. and miscarried. 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. “Endless. She had to think of something fast, or her reaction would start to make believers out of everyone.
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