’ Lucilla let out a peal of laughter. A deep silence, however, now prevailed, broken only by the tolling of the bells of Newgate and St. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night. Terrific shouts were raised by the rabble, who threatened to tear Wild in pieces if he showed himself. 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.
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