The biological laboratory, perpetually viewing life as pairing and breeding and selection, and again pairing and breeding, seemed only a translated generalization of that assertion. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. “No, don’t interrupt me. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. ’ ‘Indeed?’ said Gerald, surprised. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt.
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