Explore "Jocelyn" by John Galsworthy on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Jocelyn remained standing where she was. Half-an-hour ago she would have run to Giles and flung herself into his arms, now she stood and looked at him, her hands clasped in front of her, waiting for the cloud of that terrible thought to pass by and let a gleam of daylight through.
"Dear, what is it, are you ill?"