“It’s like the Picture and the Bust. " "I've just bethought me of a crib as'll serve their turn," interposed Sharples, "at any rate, they'll be out o' the vay, and as safe as two chicks in a coop. Capes, do you think. 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. ‘This is insupportable. Until at last I persuaded him to go to bed. No doubt he knew enough of his world to recognise that he stood little chance against the word of a major of militia. " "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting. I've already told you I'm about to take a long journey, and it's more than probable I shall never return. Ludicrously loud sounds streamed from the array of speakers.
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