What is it?" "Guess," rejoined Blueskin, attempting to throw a gallant expression into his forbidding countenance. She kissed Cathy's soft cheek as she entered the warm kitchen. They were silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the tedious action of the chairs. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. They went to the Zoological Gardens together one Saturday to see for themselves a point of morphological interest about the toucan’s bill—that friendly and entertaining bird—and they spent the rest of the afternoon walking about and elaborating in general terms this theme and the superiority of intellectual fellowship to all merely passionate relationships. Her mind turned and accused itself of having been cold and hard.
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