I Would Give Up My Life For

She Was Flushed And Felt Intoxicated With The Sound Of Her Own Voice And The Unaccustomed Taste Of Candor. It Muddled Her Like Wine, Or Like A First Breath Of Freedom.

I Would Give Up The Unessential; I Would Give My Money, I Would Give My Life For My Children; But I Wouldn't Give Myself.

The Mother-women Seemed To Prevail That Summer At Grand Isle. It Was Easy To Know Them, Fluttering About With Extended, Protecting Wings When Any Harm, Real Or Imaginary, Threatened Their Precious Brood. They Were Women Who Idolized Their Children, Worshiped Their Husbands, And Esteemed It A Holy Privilege To Efface Themselves As Individuals And Grow Wings As Ministering Angels.

I Trust It Will Not Be Giving Away Professional Secrets To Say That Many Readers Would Be Surprised, Perhaps Shocked, At The Questions Which Some Newspaper Editors Will Put To A Defenseless Woman Under The Guise Of Flattery.

There Would Be No One There To Live For Her During Those Coming Years; She Would Live For Herself. There Would Be No Powerful Will Bending Hers In That Blind Persistance With Which Men And Women Believe They Have A Right To Impose A Private Will Upon A Fellow-creature. A Kind Intention Or A Cruel Intention Made The Act Seem No Less A Crime As She Looked Upon It In That Brief Moment Of Illumination.