A woman’s shoe lay on the threadbare carpeting. "Damnation!" exclaimed one of the leaders of the party in a furious tone,
snatching a torch from an attendant, and throwing its light full upon the face of
the carpenter; "this is not the villain, Sir Cecil. 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. A mutual recognition took place at the same instant between the
stranger and this individual. “Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a
thought that made her glance quickly at her companion.
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This video was uploaded to indienet.info on 30-06-2024 08:24:12