When she tried to speak she found it difficult. "Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. Then it came to her with a shock, as an extraordinary oversight, that she could never tell Manning about Ramage—never. Then Manning flopped back in his chair and dropped his chin like a man shot. But Manning seemed more and more clearly indicated as a refuge, as security. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. She was, by certain signs, charged with anger, but she saw upon the faces of these two young fools the look of angels and an ineffable kindness breathed upon her withered heart.
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