“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. 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. "Not a moment is to be lost," whispered Jonathan to Trenchard. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. After all, that was life.
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