‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. 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. “Nothing was ever done,” Miss Brett asserted, “without a certain element of Faith. Though within the last two days he had committed several heinous offences, and one of a darker dye than any with which the reader has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of conscience. Presently he reached out and laid his hand upon Spurlock's motionless shoulders. We’re handfuls. . She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches.
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