Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica. “Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch.
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