So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. "I'll tell you all about it presently. The babies that the woman—your wife—refused to stop creating. And she, she in her own person too, was this eternal Bios, beginning again its recurrent journey to selection and multiplication and failure or survival. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. I made it a point to bring beachcombers to the house to fill her with horror of mankind. I finally got my own set of house keys when I turned eleven. " "What a strange history is mine!" said Thames. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints.
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