Once they were on the move, Kimble seemed to find strength from somewhere. It was comforting to have her there, snoring gently. It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. "You'll find her quiet enough to-day, Sir," observed the woman, as they walked along; "but she has been very outrageous latterly.
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