She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up in his own lonely heart. It looked as if it had taken its world for granted and prospered on that assumption—a world in which children were trained to obey their elders and the wills of women over-ruled as a matter of course.
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