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nydus/The Quest of the Silver FleecePublic
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Table of Contents

XVII. The Rape of the Fleece

“I know it hurts, dear; I know it does. But men and women must learn to bear hurts in this world.”

“Not hurts like this; they couldn’t.”

“Yes, even hurts like this. Bear and stand straight; be brave. After all, Zora, no man is quite worth a woman’s soul; no love is worth a whole life.”

Zora turned away with a gesture of impatience.

‚ÄúYou were born in ice,‚Äù she retorted, adding a bit more tenderly, ‚Äúin clear strong ice; but I was born in fire. I live‚ÅÝ‚ÄîI love; that‚Äôs all.‚Äù And she sat down again, despairingly, and stared at the dull swamp. Miss Smith stood for a moment and closed her eyes upon a vision.

“Ice!” she whispered. “My God!”

Then, at length, she said to Zora:

“Zora, there’s only one way: do something; if you sit thus brooding you’ll go crazy.”

“Do crazy folks forget?”

“Nonsense, Zora!” Miss Smith ridiculed the girl’s fantastic vagaries; her sound common sense rallied to her aid. “They are the people who remember; sane folk forget. Work is the only cure for such pain.”

‚ÄúBut there‚Äôs nothing to do‚ÅÝ‚Äînothing I want to do‚ÅÝ‚Äînothing worth doing‚ÅÝ‚Äînow.‚Äù

“The Silver Fleece?”

The girl sat upright.

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