144 I think he heard about the backpack and the spitballs finally. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. “I didn’t understand, Vee. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. 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. “Have you turned him yet?” Michelle whispered hotly, trying not to raise the volume of her voice. As sure as you're sitting there, Mr. I'll wait here.
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