‘Melusine…Melusine. " "By Heaven!" cried Kneebone, with increasing fervour, "it is true—as true as my affection for you. Day after day for a measured hour in the lecture-theatre, with elaborate power and patience, Russell pieced together difficulty and suggestion, instance and counter-instance, in the elaborate construction of the family tree of life. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. How does one get work? She walked along the Strand and across Trafalgar Square, and by the Haymarket to Piccadilly, and so through dignified squares and palatial alleys to Oxford Street; and her mind was divided between a speculative treatment of employment on the one hand, and breezes—zephyr breezes—of the keenest appreciation for London, on the other.
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