“The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. Annabel a murderess! It was not possible. ’ The crack in the iron front widened a little, and the general was obliged to clamp his jaws tight against the rise of a pain too well remembered. Men do not understand constancy as women do. ’ ‘Will you have done, Gerald?’ demanded Hilary, exasperated. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired. Father-worshipping sons are abnormal— and they’re no good. ‘Eh bien?’ ‘You are perfectly right, Melusine.
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