F. Why?" "I was just wondering. Am I going to die?” “I am afraid that you are in a dangerous state,” Courtlaw answered gravely. But, urged by his wife's cries, who was more anxious for the preservation of her child's life than her own, he snatched up the infant, and made his escape from the back of the premises. 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. If she had once known him, if he were some former neighbour, it would be comprehensible. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. She was gone.
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