” Lucy finished Michelle’s sentence and steeled her resolve, drawing herself up to a straighter posture. “Will you be moral and your species, or immoral and yourself? We’ve decided to be immoral. “Often,” he repeated, a little heavily. At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs. “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. We're lost. They are born idiots, incurably insane.
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