" With this, he appeared to pluck up his courage, and stepped forward more boldly. In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. This isn't your island, child; it's the great world. “Can’t stop, thanks,” he answered. After quarter of an hour, she followed. " The little girl's countenance fell. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. 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. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome.
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