1 I had started, but not under his touch.
2 You address nothing in my breast, you touch nothing there.
3 Joe laid his hand upon my shoulder with the touch of a woman.
4 But I was softened by the softened aspect of the man, and felt a touch of reproach.
5 Biddy held one of my hands to her lips, and Joe's restoring touch was on my shoulder.
6 He smiled, and I understood his touch to mean that he wished to lift my hand, and lay it on his breast.
7 It had been his own idea to wear that touch of powder, and I had conceded the powder after overcoming the shorts.
8 After a pause, they both heartily congratulated me; but there was a certain touch of sadness in their congratulations that I rather resented.
9 The river, still dark and mysterious, was spanned by bridges that were turning coldly gray, with here and there at top a warm touch from the burning in the sky.
10 With some vague misgiving that she might get upon the table then and there and die at once, the complete realization of the ghastly waxwork at the Fair, I shrank under her touch.
11 As the man made no answer when I asked him what he did there, but eluded my touch in silence, I ran to the Lodge and urged the watchman to come quickly; telling him of the incident on the way back.
12 When I said some reassuring words, she stretched out her tremulous right hand, as though she was going to touch me; but she recalled it again before I understood the action, or knew how to receive it.
13 What was to follow that I did not touch upon; neither, indeed, was I at all clear or comfortable about it in my own mind, now that I saw him in that softer condition, and in declared peril for my sake.
14 A smile crossed his face then, and he turned his eyes on me with a trustful look, as if he were confident that I had seen some small redeeming touch in him, even so long ago as when I was a little child.
15 Those attractions in it, I had seen before; what I had never seen before, was the saddened, softened light of the once proud eyes; what I had never felt before was the friendly touch of the once insensible hand.
16 She held the head of her stick against her heart as she stood looking at the table; she in her once white dress, all yellow and withered; the once white cloth all yellow and withered; everything around in a state to crumble under a touch.
17 Too heavily out of sorts to care much at the time whether it were he or no, or after all to touch the breakfast, I washed the weather and the journey from my face and hands, and went out to the memorable old house that it would have been so much the better for me never to have entered, never to have seen.
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