He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. . ‘Oh, you are making a game with me. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. Oh God! my limbs fail me. “Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion.
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