Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. ’ ‘Yes, do. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. You are wrong even about that man’s scientific position and his standard of work. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. They were now both in a state of unprecedented physical fitness. Even as a child she observed how men were haunted 18 by the presence of her mother. Don't be alarmed by their manners, Mr. "He's dead," exclaimed Austin. "No"—as if her thoughts were elsewhere. She treaded down the hall swiftly but stopped abruptly when she heard a voice in back of her. Was it that the struggle of things to survive produced as a sort of necessary byproduct these intense preferences and appreciations, or was it that some mystical outer thing, some great force, drove life beautyward, even in spite of expediency, regardless of survival value and all the manifest discretions of life? She went to Capes with that riddle and put it to him very carefully and clearly, and he talked well—he always talked at some length when she took a difficulty to him—and sent her to a various literature upon the markings of butterflies, the incomprehensible elaboration and splendor of birds of Paradise and hummingbirds’ plumes, the patterning of tigers, and a leopard’s spots. The truth at once flashed across his mind.
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