They all left the room. He walked with bent head. She told the porter to take it to the booking-office, and it was only after a disconcerting moment or so that she found she ought to have directed him to go to the cloak-room. Like stealing. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. To go to him, to console him! But she stirred not from her hiding place. The danger you put yourself in by remaining here astounds me. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. 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 drew her to him with his hands upon her waist.
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