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. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. I suppose if one were to love some one, one would feel doubtful. Perhaps I ate something spoiled for breakfast. There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light. There was one letter. Wood, "and I'll take care of Thames.
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