She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. 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. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women.
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