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" "Robbed him!" screamed the widow. "You are not. “The fellow seems to know your name, Miss Pellissier, and that you have lived in Paris. They found a river pool and disrobed together as they had for hundreds of years. Was it that the struggle of things to survive produced as a sort of necessary byproduct these intense preferences and appreciations, or was it that some mystical outer thing, some great force, drove life beautyward, even in spite of expediency, regardless of survival value and all the manifest discretions of life? She went to Capes with that riddle and put it to him very carefully and clearly, and he talked well—he always talked at some length when she took a difficulty to him—and sent her to a various literature upon the markings of butterflies, the incomprehensible elaboration and splendor of birds of Paradise and hummingbirds’ plumes, the patterning of tigers, and a leopard’s spots. Fool that I was to marry for beauty! I ought to have remembered that a fair woman and a slashed gown always find some nail in the way. “Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean.
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