A struggle of the most terrific kind now ensued. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. Just let him down easy, Lucy. You came out like an ant for your nuptial flight. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. It is she that I must see. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. Yes, of course. “To the view that all those Splendid Women in the movement ought to have votes.
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