On the appearance of the thief-taker, Mrs. Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. Heaven alone knows why. She was no longer there.
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