"One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. What's this?" he added, stooping to pick up a piece of paper lying at his feet—it was Jonathan's memorandum. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. “What else can happen?” asked Miss Miniver, with a little weak gesture at the glow. When I examined you for ‘ill humors’ I longed to run my hands over your entire body, to touch your face, to caress you in the places that would give you pleasure.
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