But there was something in his face at once stupid and invincible that told her he would go on forcing himself upon her, that he would esteem speech with her a great point gained. Her voice was weak and flat. One trouble, however, shot its slanting bolts athwart the shining warmth of that opening day and marred its perfection, and that was the thought of her father. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. ” With a little crash the pistol fell from her shaking fingers.
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