From the vessel
to the green, green shore--such a little step. He leaps from the Grecian
barge to the Trojan land, alive. Does he turn to look at his comrades
and off eastwards, beyond homewards, with a great thrill before he falls
dead? We do not know.
All we do know is, that WE thrill now as we see him leaping to his
death, even over this gap of ages, through these shadows of unreality.
We have left Mae flashing scorn at Norman for a long while, a much
longer while than she really needed for her flash, for Norman's angry
start, violent exclamation, and indignant glance convinced her of her
mistake before he answered her.
"I refuse to fight--I--Great--I beg your pardon, Miss Mae, but of course
I'll fight. I only hope the fellow isn't such a craven as to let it blow
over. However, I strongly suspect policy and his friends will keep him
from it. For my part, I would like to break my lance for the poor woman.
Any good blow struck for the fair thing, helps old Mother earth a bit, I
suppose.
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