"He made her play and she had almost forgotten how. Life had been so serious and so bitter. He knew how to play and swept her along with him."

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She did not know that this was the best thing she could have done, and she did not know that, when she began to walk quickly or even run along the paths and down the avenue, she was stirring her slow blood and making herself stronger by fighting with the wind which swept down from the moor.

— Frances Hodgson Burnett