“I too am asked. ” “How dull you are,” the lady remarked. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. 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. She peered into the darkness. " That was true, thought Spurlock. . I might utter a million, and still I doubt if I could make you understand. "I am here, you see," said the smith.
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