At that moment her aunt's face seemed wonderful to Nedda; so quiet, yet so burningly alive.
“Peace! There is no peace in this world. There is death, but no peace!” And, moving nearer to Tod, she rested her hand on his shoulder, looking, as it seemed to Nedda, at something far away, till John said:
“That's hardly the point, is it? We should be awfully glad to know that there'll be no more trouble. All this has been very worrying. And now the cause seems to be—removed.”
There was always a touch of finality in John's voice. Nedda saw that all had turned to Kirsteen for her answer.
“If those up and down the land who profess belief in liberty will cease to filch from the helpless the very crust of it, the cause will be removed.”
“Which is to say—never!”
At those words from Felix, Frances Freeland, gazing first at him and then at Kirsteen, said in a pained voice:
“I don't think you ought to talk like that, Kirsteen, dear. Nobody who's at all nice means to be unkind. We're all forgetful sometimes. I know I often forget to be sympathetic. It vexes me dreadfully!”
“Mother, don't defend tyranny!”
“I'm sure it's often from the best motives, dear.”