The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. It dealt with fine aspects of Mr. Jack Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild, any day. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. 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. In Darrell's open features, frankness and honour were written in legible characters; while, in Jack's physiognomy, cunning and knavery were as strongly imprinted. But calmer thoughts quickly succeeded. " Spurlock grew limp in his chair. His voice now had lost its ironies.
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