Mr. While they were thus occupied, a maid-servant entered the room, and stated that a person was without who had a packet for Captain Darrell, which must be delivered into his own hands. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath. Then Capes shifted his eyes to her microscope and the little trays of unmounted sections beside it. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. It was not the arrival of the guests, but merely the maid moving about in the hall. “My dear Anna,” he answered.
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