“But Julian, we don’t even know each other!” She exclaimed. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. 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. The blaze, however, was sufficient to reveal to the thief-taker the features of his intended assassin.
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