Would it not be best to just let life go by now, to treasure her friends and use her handgifts to help others? To become closer to some, and especially, in honor of the only man she would ever love, become closer to his parents?
“You can rely on me!” Varya said, still more earnestly and enthusiastically, still leaning heavily on the counter, noticing briefly and forgetting at once that her bare elbow had crushed a stray smut from the Primus mender's booth.
This was what the Spartans called a ſcytale, a thong of leather or parchment, which they twiſted round a ſtaff in ſuch a manner, that there was no vacancy or void ſpace left upon it.
In what the Apostle did glory?—He gloried in a Cross. ... [T]o the Ear of a Galatian, it conveyed much the same Meaning, as if the Apostle had gloried in a Halter; gloried in the Gallows; gloried in a Gibbet.
