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. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. The clock struck half-past ten. Following this direction, he opened a gate, and struck into one of the most beautiful green lanes imaginable; which, after various windings, conducted him into a more frequented road, and eventually brought him to the place he sought. His tone was rough, almost threatening.
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