Wood trembled. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. ’ He glanced at the portrait behind her. But that did not stop Trodger, who had ridden up from Kent for the purpose, from detailing every little inspection and sortie that his men had made in their allotted task of watching Remenham House. They buried him in Willesden churchyard after the robbery. "More slang," he said.
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