" And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon it. Then Capes shifted his eyes to her microscope and the little trays of unmounted sections beside it. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone.
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