If she wanted men to battle beasts in combat, a festival arose for them to battle for her. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. What she said is true. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face.
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