‘Of course she don’t understand,’ snapped Charvill irascibly. " The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the door. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. 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. Sheppard," rejoined Winifred kindly. Wood and Thames pass him, and followed at a foot's pace behind them. Stanley poured wine. Vorsack sauntered into the room, sporting her usual toothy thin254 lipped grin. Everything was blurred. I told her it was the end. . As the novel grew Ruth was astonished to see herself enter and dominate it: sometimes as she actually was, with all her dreams reviewed—as if he had caught her talking in her sleep. ‘You’re either mad, or in love.
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