Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. “I had a faint idea once that things were as you say they are, but the affair of the ring—of the unexpected ring—puzzled me. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling her waist, bound her to the wall. "If so, it won't pay. And she, she in her own person too, was this eternal Bios, beginning again its recurrent journey to selection and multiplication and failure or survival.
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