"Do trust me. Let me help you. I will die before I will let any harm come to you."
She rose from her sitting posture, first dragging the saturated cloak and then letting it fall on the ground--it was too heavy for her tired arms. Her little woman's figure as she laid her delicate chilled hands together one over the other against her waist, and went a step backward while she leaned her head forward as if not to lose sight of his face, was unspeakably touching.
"Great God!" the words escaped Deronda in a tone so low and solemn that they seemed like a prayer become unconsciously vocal. The agitating impression this forsaken girl was making on him stirred a fibre that lay close to his deepest interest in the fates of women--"perhaps my mother was like this one." The old thought had come now with a new impetus of mingled feeling, and urged that exclamation in which both East and West have for ages concentrated their awe in the presence of inexorable calamity.

"Do trust me. Let me help you. I will die before I will let any harm come to you."
She rose from her sitting posture, first dragging the saturated cloak and then letting it fall on the ground - it was too heavy for her tired arms. Her little woman's figure as she laid her delicate chilled hands together one over the other against her waist, was unspeakably touching.
"Great God!" the words escaped Deronda like an unconscious prayer. The agitating impression this forsaken girl was making on him stirred his deepest interest in the fates of women- "perhaps my mother was like this one," he thought.
