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F. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. ” She spoke with a certain asperity. 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. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions. ” She was silent, and in the gloom of the dimly lit apartment he could not see her face. " But this difficulty was only overcome to be succeeded by one still greater. ” He declared that no book could be satisfactory that left a bad taste in the mouth, however much it seized and interested the reader at the time. When she awoke, she felt sick, her mouth still salty with blood. “You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, then?” Anna hesitated. Howsomdever, if you should reach t'other side, take an old feller's advice, and don't be foolhardy enough to venter back again.
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