But this revulsion was engulfed by the succeeding waves of pity and understanding. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. " "I'll give you something better worth keeping," she answered, detaching the ornament from her neck, and presenting it to him; "this contains a lock of my hair, and may remind you sometimes of your little sister. What was the name on those marriage lines you showed me?’ ‘M—Melusine,’ stammered the woman, her countenance yet registering shock. For in life there is but one hour: an epic or an idyll: all other hours lead up to and down from it. She could not say to Michelle that the Vorsack house had more than just a little tinge of “bad”.
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