Only you won’t let me exist!” Mr. "But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. She chose to hold her nose. 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. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. Or else he was indeed obsessed. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. His long struggle with himself, his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary. ‘Can I not leave you for a day without you getting yourself into trouble?’ ‘Imbecile,’ she uttered faintly.
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