” She had had so much time to learn the violin that she often thought to herself that she ought to be much more skilled at it. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. 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.
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