Nigel Ennison, Annabel. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. She went into shock. 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. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. It looked as if it had taken its world for granted and prospered on that assumption—a world in which children were trained to obey their elders and the wills of women over-ruled as a matter of course. She sensed his acute frustration as he unzipped her raincoat while trying to kiss her. “We can be alone?” She inquired.
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