I'd like to shake you until your bones rattled; but the bones of a Roundhead wouldn't rattle to any purpose. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. She tried to think what she should do in this eventuality or that. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. She leaped suddenly at a desperate resolution, and in one moment had made it into a new self. Indeed, it seemed inevitable that she must clear it up with his assistance, or not at all.
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