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. He was perhaps forty-five years of age. He said nothing, even though it was not raining. It’s well hidden, miss. He must be tied behind the carriage. She'll have this hour always with her; and you failed her. He may not be able to eat tin-cans, but he tries to.
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