[He goes to gently pat her hair, wondering if he should get his handkerchief; maybe she'll feel better enough to tell him what's wrong if she doesn't have tears all over her face? He'll wait until he has room to go for the pocket without disturbing her, though.]
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Why... what, Dear? What's wrong?
[And he's dead certain SOMETHING's wrong.]
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There now, you're alright with me.
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