She was acquiring truths, but in a series of shocks rather than by the process of analysis. He did not stagger in the least. She found herself asking more and more curiously, “Why, on the principle of the survival of the fittest, have I any sense of beauty at all?” That enabled her to go on thinking about beauty when it seemed to her right that she should be thinking about biology. ‘Why do you stand there? Take him up, and bring him out at once. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself. "But I wish her hand had been as deadly as yours.
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