Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. Ann Veronica wiped a scalpel, put a card over a watch-glass containing thin shreds of embryonic guinea-pig swimming in mauve stain, and dismantled her microscope. She felt as if she had struck them unawares.
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