She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs. "Ja," answered Van; "at a minut's nodish. ‘Beg pardon, miss, but I’m told as how—’ She broke off, her eyes widening, her jaw dropping open. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. 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.
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