* * * * *
In remembering it all afterwards, she recalled to herself the fact
that this process of prayer seemed strangely tranquil; that there had
been in her a consciousness of rest and recuperation as marked as that
which a traveler feels who turns into a lighted house from a stormy
night. The presence of that other in the room was not even an
interruption; the nervous force that the other had generated just now
seemed harmless and ineffective. For a time, at least, that was so.
But there came a moment when it appeared as if her almost mechanical
and rhythmical action of internal effort began to grip something. It
was as when an engine after running free clenches itself again upon
some wheel or cog.
The moment she was aware of this, she opened her eyes; and saw that
the other was looking straight at her intently and questioningly. And
in that moment she perceived for the first time that her conflict lay,
not externally, as she had thought, but in some interior region of
which she was wholly ignorant. It was not by word or action, but by
something else which she only half understood that she was to
struggle....
She closed her eyes again with quite a new kind of determination.
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