"Oh, nothing—nothing," returned Mrs. ’ ‘It is so in a convent, you see,’ she explained airily. " "I'll tell you really why I keep her in peeled paint. 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. “May I enquire,” he asked smoothly, “in what way my appearance contributes to your amusement? If there is a joke I should like to share it. ” She replied with a rehearsed answer, “I was told that my real mother died the day I was born. Satisfied that he had solved his difficulty, he proceeded to his room.
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