. But, taking the chisel from Blueskin, Jack quickly forced back the bolt. She had now the clear and tranquil expression of one whose mind is made up. “Well?” he asked her tersely. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it.
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