She trembled slightly, then grew cold, with a sickening disgust at this strange, new, uprising self.
"Wait a minute before you say too much," went on Anderson.

"You're my best-beloved child, my Lenore, the lass I've been so proud of all my life.

I'd spill blood to avenge an insult to you....

But, Lenore, we've entered upon a terrible war.

People out here, especially the women, don't realize it yet.