Explore "The Fruit of the Tree" by Edith Wharton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
WITHIN Justine there was a moment's darkness; then, like terror-struck workers rallying to their tasks, every faculty was again at its post, receiving and transmitting signals, taking observations, anticipating orders, making her brain ring with the hum of a controlled activity.
She had known the sensation before -- the transmuting of terror and pity into this miraculous lucidity of thought and action; but never had it snatched her from such depths. Oh, thank heaven for her knowledge now -- for the trained mind that could take command of her senses and bend them firmly to its service!