Wise and clever as he is in other things, poor Dad is simply a fanatic in this, and--well, if he did condescend to explain, I'm afraid you might mistake what he would think the correct scientific way of putting it, for an insult, and I couldn't bear to think of you quarrelling.

You know you're the only two people in the world I--I--Oh dear, what _shall_ I do!" It was at this point that the Law of Natural Selection stepped in.
Natural laws of any sort have very little respect for the refinements of what mortals are pleased to call their philosophy.

Professor Marmion was a very great man--some men said he was the greatest scientist of his age--but at this moment he was but as a grain of sand among the wheels of the mighty machine which grinds out human and other destinies.
Commander Merrill took a couple of long, swift strides towards the chair in which Nitocris was leaning back with her hands pressed to her eyes.
He picked her up bodily, as he might have picked a child of seven up, put her protesting hands aside, and slowly and deliberately kissed her three times squarely on the lips as if he meant it; and the third time her lips moved too.

Then he whispered: "Good-bye, dear, for the present, at any rate!" After which he deposited her tenderly in the chair again, and, with just one last look, turned and walked with quick, angry strides across the lawn and round the semi-circular carriage-drive, saying some things to himself between his clenched teeth, and thinking many more.
A few yards outside the gate he came face to face with the Professor.
"Good-morning, sir," said Merrill, with a motion of his hand towards his hat.
"Oh, good-morning, Mr Merrill," replied the Professor a little stiffly, for relations between them had been strained for some considerable time now.

"I presume you have been to the house.