“I want my life to be beaten gold just in order to make it a fitting setting for yours. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it. His eyes flashed as he turned towards her. Opposite to her was a sallow-visaged young man, whose small tie seemed like a smudge of obtusively shiny black across the front of a high close-drawn collar. .
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