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It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. She perceived she had never really thought of any one but herself in all her acts and plans. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. ) He hesitated. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room.
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