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Her thin fingers were armed with nails as long as the talons of a bird. "Don't disturb yourself," continued the other, nowise disconcerted by the rebuke. "No. After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten. It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs.

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