It now occurred to him that she had always been fully dressed. With a cry of distress, she dropped the pistol and flew after him, racing past him to the door. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. Wood," she continued, in an authoritative tone, seeing her husband ready to depart, "one word before you set out. 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. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk.
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