Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. Well, it had to happen somewhen. He turned his eyes and stared at Miss Garvice like one who wakes from a reverie, and then got up and strolled down the laboratory toward his refuge, the preparation-room.
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