woman's--not a woman's, but a she-cub's. Ah! 'twas not just--not just
that it should be so!"

Anne slipped from her bed and ran to her, falling upon her knees and
clinging to her, weeping bitterly.

"Poor heart!" she cried. "Poor, dearest heart!"

Her touch and words seemed to recall Clorinda to herself. She started as
if wakened from a dream, and drew her form up rigid.

"I have gone mad," she said. "What is it I do?" She passed her hand
across her brow and laughed a little wild laugh. "Yes," she said; "this
it is to be a woman--to turn weak and run to other women--and weep and
talk. Yes, by these signs I _am_ a woman!" She stood with her clenched
hands pressed against her breast. "In any fair fight," she said, "I
could have struck back blow for blow--and mine would have been the
heaviest; but being changed into a woman, my arms are taken from me. He
who strikes, aims at my bared breast--and that he knows and triumphs in."

She set her teeth together, and ground them, and the look, which was like
that of a chained and harried tigress, lit itself in her eyes.

"But there is _none_ shall beat me," she said through these fierce shut
teeth. "Nay I there is _none_! Get up, Anne," bending to raise her.
"Get up, or I shall be kneeling too--and I must stand upon my feet."

She made a motion as if she would have turned and gone from the room
without further explanation, but Anne still clung to her. She was afraid
of her again, but her piteous love was stronger than her fear.