There has never been a white woman at McClintock's. There was a short, red-faced, resolute youth who inherited an authoritative attitude upon bacteriology from his father; a Japanese student of unassuming manners who drew beautifully and had an imperfect knowledge of English; and a dark, unwashed Scotchman with complicated spectacles, who would come every morning as a sort of volunteer supplementary demonstrator, look very closely at her work and her, tell her that her dissections were “fairish,” or “very fairish indeed,” or “high above the normal female standard,” hover as if for some outbreak of passionate gratitude and with admiring retrospects that made the facetted spectacles gleam like diamonds, return to his own place. So the talk went on. Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works 1. ” They returned to the Beck house and he walked her to the front door. She was civil, but she was obviously impatient to know his errand.
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