Explore "The Philanderers" by A.E.W. Mason on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Drake bent over her, stroking her hair with a gentle helpless movement of his hand and occasionally varying his consolation by a pat on the shoulders. The puffed sleeves of silk yielding under his touch gave him a queer impression of the girl's fragility.
'Oh don't, child!' he entreated. 'It's my fault for speaking so soon. But really there's nothing to fear -- nothing. It'll all come out right -- not a doubt of that. You'll see.'