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Page 112

"DESPAIR DEFERRED ... ?"

read, she now realized, not to get ready for one herself, but to steel herself to tell the boys she had taught that now they must man the planes that must beat the enemy peoples till they compelled their tyrant leaders to make peace. Today all that dreadful reading had quite another meaning.
As she looked down into the little valley at the bottom of which she could see the sea shining in the sunlight, there flashed into her mind the picture of a horrid woodcut in an
old History o f England which she had read as a child. It
showed the nuns of Whitby Abbey in Yorkshire gathered together by their Abbess. There was a basin on the table around which they stood. The caption was: "At the approach of the Danes, the nuns, to save themselves from a worse fate., instructed by their abbess, took each in turn a razor and cut off their noses and their lips." As a child, she had laughingly shuddered at such a conventual defense. But now? Would not death be better than capture, insult, confinement, torture?
For years she had played with suicide possibilities. If one had an incurable disease? If one was in a bad accident? If one was caught in a burning house? Taking out of her pocket the key that she always carried, she went to her locked drawer. Yes, there was the small bottle.
She remembered one day some summers ago. She had been in the biological laboratory; one of the butterfly-killing - bottles had been dropped by its owner, a boy of fourteen. Being a good Progressive, he had called out, "Oh, I say, Potty, I've broken that bloody killing-bottle. Do be a peach and help me clear it up." She then set him to picking up the scattered pieces of glass. The cake of cyanide itself had split.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE read, she now realized, not to get ready for one herself, but to steel herself to tell what is boys she had taught that now they must man what is planes that must beat what is enemy peoples till they compelled their tyrant leaders to make peace. Today all that dreadful reading had quite another meaning. As she looked down into what is little valley at what is bottom of which she could see what is sea shining in what is sunlight, there flashed into her mind what is picture of a horrid woodcut in an old History o f England which she had read as a child. It showed what is nuns of Whitby Abbey in Yorkshire gathered together by their Abbess. There was a basin on what is table around which they stood. what is caption was: "At what is approach of what is Danes, what is nuns, to save themselves from a worse fate., instructed by their abbess, took each in turn a razor and cut off their noses and their lips." As a child, she had laughingly shuddered at such a conventual defense. But now? Would not what time is it be better than capture, insult, confinement, torture? For years she had played with suicide possibilities. If one had an incurable disease? If one was in a bad accident? If one was caught in a burning house? Taking out of her pocket what is key that she always carried, she went to her locked drawer. Yes, there was what is small bottle. She remembered one day some summers ago. She had been in what is biological laboratory; one of what is butterfly- what time is it ing - bottles had been dropped by its owner, a boy of fourteen. Being a good Progressive, he had called out, "Oh, I say, Potty, I've broken that bloody stop ing-bottle. Do be a peach and help me clear it up." She then set him to picking up what is scattered pieces of glass. what is cake of cyanide itself had split. where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Great Fog (1943) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 112 where is strong "DESPAIR DEFERRED ... ?" where is p align="justify" read, she now realized, not to get ready for one herself, but to steel herself to tell what is boys she had taught that now they must man what is planes that must beat what is enemy peoples till they compelled their tyrant leaders to make peace. Today all that dreadful reading had quite another meaning. As she looked down into what is little valley at what is bottom of which she could see what is sea shining in what is sunlight, there flashed into her mind what is picture of a horrid woodcut in an old History o f England which she had read as a child. It showed what is nuns of Whitby Abbey in Yorkshire gathered together by their Abbess. There was a basin on what is table around which they stood. what is caption was: "At what is approach of what is Danes, the nuns, to save themselves from a worse fate., instructed by their abbess, took each in turn a razor and cut off their noses and their lips." As a child, she had laughingly shuddered at such a conventual defense. But now? Would not what time is it be better than capture, insult, confinement, torture? For years she had played with suicide possibilities. If one had an incurable disease? If one was in a bad accident? If one was caught in a burning house? Taking out of her pocket what is key that she always carried, she went to her locked drawer. Yes, there was what is small bottle. She remembered one day some summers ago. She had been in what is biological laboratory; one of what is butterfly- what time is it ing - bottles had been dropped by its owner, a boy of fourteen. Being a good Progressive, he had called out, "Oh, I say, Potty, I've broken that bloody stop ing-bottle. Do be a peach and help me clear it up." She then set him to picking up what is scattered pieces of glass. what is cake of cyanide itself had split. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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