But a mother doesn't need telling these things." Elisabeth's beautiful voice deepened.

"Tim is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh--and he's soul of my soul as well.

Do you think, then, that I shouldn't know when he is hurt ?" Sara was strangely moved.

There was something impressive in the restrained passion of Elisabeth's speech, a certain primitive grandeur in her envisagement of the relationship of mother and son.
"I expect," pursued Elisabeth calmly, "that you think I'm going too far--farther than I have any right to.

But it's any mother's right to fight for her son's happiness, and I'm fighting for Tim's.