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. She paused. "Well, that beats all I ever heard of!" roared Blueskin. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. Then Capes flittered to the hearthrug and poked the fire, stood up, and turned about.
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