His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. Capes sat down in the armchair beside her. “You’re a biologist, aren’t you?” He began to talk of his own impressions of biology as a commonplace magazine reader who had to get what he could from the monthly reviews, and was glad to meet with any information from nearer the fountainhead. He looked down and met them.
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