” He never helped her by a sound. She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. But she did not speak. She helped Jack to sit down, and dragged the jacket off him, lifting his shirt to expose the gash that had sliced across his side. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest.
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