The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below. It must be the dawn creeping in. ‘You escape from your own convent, at great personal danger. ” “Did it come—in Paris?” “I do not know,” he answered. He will be here in a moment or so, and you will then learn his determination. “I can’t imagine it,” said Miss Miniver.
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