The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw. ’ There was a kind of aching hunger in Gerald’s gaze. Tell me that again. 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. A male voice, vibrant with terror, yelled out hoarsely. Tell him the truth, Annabel. He’s nice. “No power on earth will persuade me we’re not two rather disreputable persons.
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