“I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. ” Annabel no longer attempted to conceal her emotion. "She has, she has," said Jack, in a broken voice. And she, she in her own person too, was this eternal Bios, beginning again its recurrent journey to selection and multiplication and failure or survival. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. She may be an infuriating little devil, but she is far from stupid. E. ‘I have only borrowed it.
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