"It'll be all right, you know that?" said the lady of the feathers.
"Yes, I know that," he answered. "You have to fight, I feel that; only you can do it. You have to fight this—this—" and here the doctor's loyalty spoke, for he could not betray even this new Valentine,—"this strange madness of Valentine's. Pit your will against his, and conquer for Julian's sake."
"Will," said Cuckoo. "That's what he says I can't have."
"Won't you pray to have it given you?" said the little doctor.
Cuckoo looked at him, wondering. Then she said:
"I believe I could fight better 'n pray."
"Sometimes battle is the greatest of all prayers," said the doctor.
The iron gate clicked. He was gone. Cuckoo cast an oblique glance up at the stars before she shut the door, and retraced her steps down the passage.