My mind-string will just snap, that's all; and every little pestering, forbidden thought that has been kicking its heels against self-control and sense-of-duty all these years will come tumbling out and slip off the edge of my tongue before I even know it is there." "They are some hot little thoughts, I wager," laughed the House Surgeon.
She was very calm, the still calm of the China Sea before a typhoon strikes it; when she had finished reading she put the report on the chair back of her and faced the President with clasped hands and a smile. "It's funny," she said, irrelevantly, "for the first time in my life I am not afraid here." And the House Surgeon muttered, under his breath: "Great guns! That mind-string has snapped."
But she never moved; the mind-string once broken, there seemed to be no limit to the thoughts that could come tumbling off the end of her tongue. Her eyes went back to the flower in his coat. "Perhaps you would like to know that I bought those this morning because they seemed the very breath of spring itself a bit of promise and gladness. I thought they would keep the day going right."