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🎮 Joan laughed without raising her face. “Yes, ma’am, I know that,” she answered. “I’ll be good.” “It would not do to tell the truth, or we should have our children growing up to hate war,” she concluded.!
🏆 “And you must not despair,” she continued; “because in the end it will seem to you that you have failed. It is the fallen that win the victories.” She had been fashioned to be his helpmate, as surely as if she had been made of the same bone. Nature was at one with God. Spirit and body both yearned for him. It was not position—power for herself that she craved. The marriage market—if that had been her desire: it had always been open to her. She had the gold that buys these things. Wealth, ambition: they had been offered to her—spread out temptingly before her eyes. They were always within her means, if ever she chose to purchase them. It was this man alone to whom she had ever felt drawn—this man of the people, with that suggestion about him of something primitive, untamed, causing her always in his presence that faint, compelling thrill of fear, who stirred her blood as none of the polished men of her own class had ever done. His kind, strong, ugly face: it moved beside her: its fearless, tender eyes now pleading, now commanding.!
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