“We were bound to do this when you kissed me,” she sobbed through her tears. The atmosphere seemed heavy with the odour of drugs. “Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely. “It’s precious unromantic. 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. Brown broke the silence. “Why?” He inquired. She pulled, he rose to his feet.
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