The price for this freedom at times has been high, but we have never been unwilling to pay that price. Their feet passed in pattering tumult over his mind, the feet of hares and rabbits, the feet of harts and hinds and antelopes, until he heard them no more and remembered only a proud cadence from Newman: --Whose feet are as the feet of harts and underneath the everlasting arms. --With women, my child? --Yes, father. He put us all into a blue funk.