She was ushered into the back of the squad car. Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint four days ago? I told you my turn would come. ” “It seems so—so unworthy”—she picked among her phrases “of the noble love you give—” She stopped, through the difficulty she found in expressing herself. "Oh, God! that I might die too," cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her. " Some innate sense of balance told her that something was wrong with these tales. The brain tires of resistance, and when it meets again and again, incoherently active, the same phrases, the same ideas that it has already slain, exposed and dissected and buried, it becomes less and less energetic to repeat the operation. Then all the embarrassments of the matter flashed in upon her.
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