There was no way of recalling the words; so she waited. With this air in our blood, this sunlight soaking us. If you could see how it gives them souls, women who have taken things for granted, who have given themselves up altogether to pettiness and vanity. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant.
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