“You have dyed your hair and darkened your eyebrows. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. God only knows what I have done, or left undone. 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. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. For her it was sufficient to know that somebody wanted her, that never again would she be alone, that always this boy with the dreams would be depending upon her. She knew that the primary reason lay in the fact that both she and Chen were physically attractive people.
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