"I couldn't have done it like you did." "Of course you couldn't." "But why not?
I wouldn't be afraid to, but simply I shouldn't think of things; and why shouldn't I ?" "Because you're not meant to fight, you have to be fought for, like Mr.Arthur fought for you in his own particular way, like this man you're going to meet to-night is fighting for you too." Sally's eyes looked wonderingly before her.

"Do you think things are really like that ?" she asked.
"I'm sure of it." "But why ?--why, for instance, are you meant to fight ?" "Do you want me to answer the riddle of the Universe ?" "I don't see why it should be such a riddle." "Well, it is.

I don't know who arranged these things, no more than any one else, though a good many make a comfortable income by telling you that they do.

But it's pretty obvious that it is so; that's enough for me." "I don't see why it's obvious," Sally persisted.
Janet stood away from the table and held out her arms--the thin, fleshless arms--straight, no deviation to the ungainly shoulders.
There was unconscious drama in it.

Yet she was the last person in the world to act.
"Well, _look_ at me," she said.
Sally only looked at her eyes, and her lips twitched compassionately.
"You may be all wrong," she said.