The land was there, the fight to get hack to it was real.
She smiled to herself, looking back on the years. Many people would
have said that she had had no very happy time since that sudden
moment of her father's death, but it did not seem to her, in
retrospect, unhappy. There had been unhappy times, tragic times, but
life was always bringing forward some magnificent moment, some
sudden flash of splendour that made up for all the rest. How could
you be bitter about people when you were all in the same box, all as
ignorant, as blind, as eager to do well, as fallible, as brave, as
mistaken?
The thoughts slipped dimly through her mind. She was too happy to
trace them truly. She had never been one for conscious philosophy.
Nevertheless she did not doubt but that life was worth while, that
there was something immortal in her, and that the battle was good to
fight--but what it really came to was that she loved Martin, and
that at last some one needed her, that she need never be lonely any
more.
Mrs. Bolitho stepped in with the tea.
"I'll take it in to him," Maggie said, standing up and stretching
out her arms for the tray.
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