“I ought never have gone to the Zoo, I suppose. "Help!—murder!—thieves!" screamed Mrs. "When I parted from you at Mr. " "Here!" ejaculated Wood, with a look of alarm. He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. ” She murmured. Then she saw the bodies piled in the corner. She wanted to think of him as her beloved person, to be near him and watch him, to have him going about, doing this and that, saying this and that, unconscious of her, while she too remained unconscious of herself.
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