His idea was to get behind this sustained listlessness. She kept trying to shut her legs, to stop the baby from coming out. Prison was beastly. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. "Yes, yes," replied Edgeworth Bess. She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them. 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 seemed to be hesitating between two courses of action.
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