“The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. ‘What do you mean to do with her?’ ‘Just keep her talking, that’s all,’ Gerald said quickly. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. But it annoyed Ann Veronica. This one too she read.
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