"Those that have won the ground from where we are fighting.

Had they no need of patience?
Was the cry never wrung from their lips: 'How long, oh Lord, how long ?' Is it for us to lay aside the sword that they bequeath us because we cannot hope any more than they to see the far-off victory?
Fifty years I have fought, and what, a few years hence, will my closing eyes still see but the banners of the foe still waving, fresh armies pouring to his standard ?" She flung back her head and the grim mouth broke into a smile.
"But I've won," she said.

"I'm dying further forward.

I've helped advance the line." She put out her hands and drew Joan to her.
"Let me think of you," she said, "as taking my place, pushing the outposts a little further on." Joan did not meet Hilda again till the child had grown into a woman--practically speaking.

She had always been years older than her age.