It was clear by the look on her face that she decided to leave the house immediately. I do not wish to return to Paris. " So saying, he violently shut and locked the door. “I am sorry. 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. You can’t go. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing.
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