" "Do not speak of it," rejoined Thames, with a look of horror. He was in a curious state of desperation. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. Your Mom says to come downstairs for dessert. ” So they talked on whilst supper was served, falling easily into the spirit of the place, and yet both of them conscious of some new thing underlying the gaiety of their tongues and manner. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. .
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