" "Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone. Then suddenly he seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained the better part of a week’s work—a displayed dissection of a snail, beautifully done—and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to mingle with the debris on the floor. But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit. " "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. He was a man tout à fait capable, this Gerald. I'm ashamed to say that I was too much terrified to scream out—but ran and hid myself.
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