” She brought her knees up to her chest, and rocked back and forth like a small child. Give me but leave to try. ” And she pressed her lips together in white resolution and nodded, and she was manifestly full of that same passion for conflict and selfsacrifice that has given the world martyrs since the beginning of things. She stood face to face with him, and his voice cut across her speech and made her stop abruptly. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all.
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