“The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back. You have all the instinctive dexterity of parasites. You creep around in a nun’s habit, peering into a private ballroom. " "We'll see that," replied Jonathan, dealing him another and more violent blow. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it.
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