Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. Why should she? she asked rebelliously. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. Winter came at the manor. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. 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. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded. She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. “But if you knew anything of that—” “I did. I love you—unendurably.
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