She stood there reading them as a two-gun man might read the posse that had summoned him to surrender; and she deliberately chose surrender, with all the future chances that entailed, rather than the certain, absolute defeat that was the alternative.

But she carried a high hand even while surrendering.
"You are afraid, all you women ?" she exclaimed with one of her golden laughs.

"Well--who shall blame you?
This is too much to ask of you so soon.

We will let the Mahatma go and take his friends with him.

You may go!" she said, nodding regally to us three.
But that was not enough for some of them.