He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. No breakfast, he’s had no dinner, hardly a mouthful of soup— since yesterday at tea. It had been her father’s surname, and it had sounded far more innocuous and American than Iovelli. Capes and her father stood up, and her father made a belated movement toward the curtain. Did he not look for her in the morning when she entered—come very quickly to her? She thought of him as she had last seen him looking down the length of the laboratory to see her go.
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