” He woke the glassy water to swirling activity again, and made the deep-blue shapes below writhe and shiver. Let me have more light, that I may behold him. The uproar was tremendous—men yelling— dogs barking,—but above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on. Sara Darnell was a sprightly, svelte twenty-five year old who was known for serving detentions at meter maid frequency, if only to be taken marginally more seriously by the predominantly male Lincoln High Science Department. She turned her head to each side. How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. And he did not lack courage. “Do you hear!” she said “whatever you are, wherever you are! I will not be slave to the thought of any man, slave to the customs of any time.
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