A fierce refusal seemed to struggle for passage, but she kept it
prisoned.

"I cannot," she said. "I have no longer the power. Open it for
me."

She held out the offending hand. It was more a paw than a hand. It
seemed to me plain that she could not open it.

Mara did not even look at it.

"You must open it yourself," she said quietly.

"I have told you I cannot!"

"You can if you will--not indeed at once, but by persistent effort.
What you have done, you do not yet wish undone--do not yet intend
to undo!"

"You think so, I dare say," rejoined the princess with a flash of
insolence, "but I KNOW that I cannot open my hand!"

"I know you better than you know yourself, and I know you can. You
have often opened it a little way. Without trouble and pain you
cannot open it quite, but you CAN open it. At worst you could beat
it open! I pray you, gather your strength, and open it wide."

"I will not try what I know impossible. It would be the part of a
fool!"