“Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. Run along now; but return in half an hour. The boy she had loved was gone. . She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. “I suppose I ought to congratulate you,” he said. 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. This adventure of yours has gone on altogether too long; it has become a serious distress to both your aunt and myself. I haven’t taken much account of it until now.
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