The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. ” She answered solemnly. She found herself again in the presence of some element in life about which she had been trained not to think, about which she was perhaps instinctively indisposed to think; something which jarred, in spite of all her mental resistance, with all her preconceptions of a clean and courageous girl walking out from Morningside Park as one walks out of a cell into a free and spacious world. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered.
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