Life had pulled her now this way, now that, as if playing some sort of cruel game with her.

And that game had left her very tired.

Tired as some lovely creature of the woods is tired after pursuit, and fearful with that fear of the hunted from which safety cannot rescue.

It was in Ann's eyes--that looking out from shadowy retreat, that pain of pain remembered, that fear which fear has left.
Katie had seen it once in the eyes of an exhausted fawn, who, fleeing from the searchers for the stag, had come full upon the waiting hunt--in face of the frantic hounds in leash.

The terror in those eyes that should have been so soft and gentle, the sick certitude of doom where there should have been the glad joy of life struck the death blow to Katie's ambitions to become the mighty huntress.