The future Mrs Roding turned bright, laughing eyes on the major. But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. Sebastian drew over to her and lifted her chin from her chest. This hand consigned him to destruction, but another was stretched forth to save him. How fortunate that she recognises the resemblance. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead.
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