His free hand that lay on the Coverlid clenched, and a spasm caught his arm, as though it longed for something to strike or strangle.
"Somehow Good"
William de Morgan
He went on tip-toe to the bed, and took the little feverish hand that lay outside the Coverlid, and kissed and stroked it as he muttered to himself: "Poor little wandering lamb!
"The Master of the Ceremonies"
George Manville Fenn
Fred was lying with his eyes half closed, but he heard the voice and opened them, recognised his visitors, and tried to raise his hand, but it fell back upon the Coverlid.
"The Master of the Ceremonies"
George Manville Fenn