‘You have said you do not wish to marry me,’ she accused. There must be persons tender and loving in this world. 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. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly. It was bad luck to go to Canongate. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.
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