Now, as she stared at the image of her own face, she recalled something Major Alderley had said. Jonathan, however, paid no sort of attention to this demonstration of hatred. “No, don’t interrupt me. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. 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. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently.
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