Was it possible that there seemed something at once strained and quivering about her mouth--as if she were making an effort to force the muscles to hold it still.
"I hope you would tell me if you had a headache.

You must, you know, my dear." Robin's slight movement nearer to her had the air of being almost involuntary--as if it were impelled by an uncontrollable yearning to be a little near _something_--some one.

The strained and quivering look was even more noticeable and her lifted eyes singularly expressed something she was trying to hold back.
"Thank you--indeed!" she said.

"But it isn't headache.

It is--things I could not help thinking about in the night." The Duchess took her hand and patted it with firm gentleness.
"You mustn't, my dear.