” Her words were slurred with sleep. Everett’s gaze dropped to the papers in his hand. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. 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. Move.
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